


Neville Longbottom and the Dementors of Azkaban

by toomanydishes



Series: It May Not Have Meant You at All [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Maybe OOC, Neville's POV, Panic Attacks, Sad, but idc this is my show I do what I want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanydishes/pseuds/toomanydishes
Summary: Part ONE of the It May Not Have Meant You At All seriesNeville Longbottom thought very little of himself, and thought even less of himself after he passed out just because a dementor got too near to him. He hoped maybe their new teacher, Professor Lupin, could help him figure it out, and maybe teach him how to defend himself, too.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger & Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter
Series: It May Not Have Meant You at All [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645321
Comments: 21
Kudos: 73





	1. The Dementor

**Author's Note:**

> Before you read this:  
> I want to make clear that I definitely used the original book, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, as a strong reference. There are several quotes taken from the original, although I certainly worked to make this an original text. My reason for doing so is simply that I'm a fairly new writer, especially when it comes to fiction, and it helps to have a sort of backbone to work on. Rest assured, I changed the plot in a way one can deem significant. There ends my PSA.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville passes out from the dementor that gets on the Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited on 4/20/2020 with the assistance of beta reader, @aamina-edits-things on tumblr.

Neville didn’t fully comprehend the tragedy of his parents. Before he learned the truth, every time his grandmother would scold him in that stern voice of hers; every time he visited them only to see blank faces, he felt an immense frustration. It filled his chest and his head and found its place in the backs of his eyes. He never left St. Mungo’s without tears on his cheeks. He simply didn’t _understand._

 _Especially_ after what happened when he visited the summer before his third year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

That August evening, Neville’s grandmother sat him down to talk

“Neville, do you know why your parents cannot take care of you?”

Neville shook his head.

“There are three people in Azkaban right now that are serving time for torturing your parents to insanity.”

It would take days for the horror of what his grandmother just told him to properly settle into his mind. But, for now, all he knew was that there were _people_ responsible for his parents’ incapacitation. Living human beings.

Gran continued. “Their names are Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Rabastan Lestrange. One of them, Bartemius Crouch Jr., died. But he is no less guilty. Memorize those names, boy. Never forget. Be proud of what your parents sacrificed.”

She repeated them many times after this. No matter how forgetful Neville was, he would never forget those four names.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was boarding the Hogwarts Express for his third year of wizarding school. He had his toad, Trevor; if there was anything he would never misplace after his first year at Hogwarts, it was Trevor.

He hugged his grandmother; she kissed his forehead. In parting, she told him, “Remember your parents. Now that Sirius Black is out,” Neville felt a pang of anxiety at the name, “now, more than ever, you need to know how to protect yourself.”

He nodded dully. Ever since the Azkaban break-out, Gran’s words from weeks ago about his parents clung insistently to his brain.

Neville boarded the train soon after, Trevor’s cage in hand. He shared a compartment with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, as he had done the previous two years. As Neville entered the compartment, Seamus was already ranting to Dean about football. Neville had actually been to Seamus’s house, along with Dean, over the summer to watch a game. It was fun, but only in a sense that he got to spend some time with good friends. The game itself was just a less exciting version of Quidditch.

Seamus heard the door open and immediately asked, “Neville! Did you keep up with the National Competition after we met up?”

Neville looked at Seamus. “No, I don’t really have a television to watch it on. I asked my gran about it once, but she didn’t want to go to a Muggle store.”

“Shame,” he replied absentmindedly.

Neville walked inside, intending to sit opposite of Seamus and Dean, when the train suddenly lurched forward, causing his leg to hit the edge of the bench painfully. He yelped. Neither of his compartment mates said anything.

Neville clung to Dean and Seamus, at first, out of necessity. Since he had no previous friends to speak of, Neville had walked on to the Hogwarts Express his first year to the first compartment with an empty seat. Hermione Granger, Dean, and Seamus were all in there, talking excitedly about what was going to happen when they got to Hogwarts. Over that first year, Neville spent a lot of time with Dean and Seamus, since they all lived in the same dormitories. Hermione Granger, eventually, joined Harry Potter and Ron Weasley to form their own friendships.

Neville was grateful for _any_ friends, to be honest. He had never made a proper friendship for the first eleven years of his life. When Dean and Seamus slowly began talking to him more and more, Neville felt ecstatic. He was able to at least tell _someone_ about how his parents were in the hospital, for reasons he did not yet know…

Neville spent the rest of the train ride looking out the window, thinking about his parents and Sirius Black and _them._

_Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Bartemius Crouch Jr._

If Black could get out, surely _they_ could escape too…

Gran had informed him that the last one, Bartemius Crouch Jr., had died shortly after being imprisoned. She also made it clear that the other three were very much alive and in Azkaban.

Which, to Neville’s shock and horror, was a lot less secure than he once thought.

Neville could see the beginnings of a storm in the distant sky when the food cart stopped by the compartment. He wasn’t really in the mood for sweets, but he bought a Chocolate Frog anyways, because they always traded cards on the way to Hogwarts.

“Does anyone want my frog?”

Seamus made a near immediate grab for Neville’s frog and, without a second’s thought, bit into the head.

Neville picked up his card. “I’ve got Morgan le Fay.”

“Sweet!” said Dean. “I need that one, could I trade it for a Merlin?”

“Come on, Dean, everyone’s got Merlin,” Seamus said exasperatedly.

“It’s fine, Dean,” said Neville, “I’ll just give it to you. I don’t need Morgan or Merlin.”

Seamus looked at his card. “I’ve got Dippet! No way I’m trading this.”

As the Dean and Seamus began arguing amongst themselves, a familiar blonde head popped into the compartment.

"Hey, Longbottom. Have fun this summer? I assume you spend it in St. Mungo's, of course. Not the best of company, you get there, huh?"

Neville felt a horrid lurch in his stomach. He didn’t like hearing or thinking about St. Mungo’s.

Seamus made an immediate grab for his wand. "Go away, Malfoy."

Malfoy ignored him. "Have you told these two? Or are you too ashamed?”

"I'm warning you, Malfoy." Seamus lifted his wand to Malfoy's chest.

"Okay, but if you don’t tell them, I will!" Malfoy made a quick exit before Seamus made good on his threat.

The mood in the compartment had immediately darkened. Neville wasn’t sure he wanted to explain exactly _why_ his parents were in the hospital, what with the knowledge being so fresh in his mind, wreaking havoc on his emotions.

As the train moved along, the view outside was quickly becoming a flat sheet of gray. Neville remained entranced by the droplets racing on the window, and he refused to let himself think about his parents or Sirius Black or _them_. He thought of rain, nature, Herbology. He loved Herbology. He couldn’t wait to go back to the class and talk to Professor Sprout and to visit Dogweed and Deathcap in Hogsmeade.

Neville’s Herbology-themed trance was interrupted by a sudden lurch that indicated that the train was slowing down.

“There’s no way we’re there yet,” said Dean, who was looking at his watch.

The lamps suddenly extinguished, causing Neville to flinch horribly. He was always easily startled by stupid things.

Seamus stuck his head out of the compartment just as the train jolted to a stop, causing someone’s luggage to fall and the door to close on Seamus’s shoulder.

“Ouch – OK, so Harry is in the compartment next to us, so we can ask them if they know what’s going on.”

Neville found himself getting out, asking what direction he needed to go (“Left!”) and stumbling that way, his anxiety starting to build. He opened the compartment door and immediately fell forward as he tried to step in.

“Sorry -- d’you know what’s going on? — Ouch -- sorry—”

“Hullo, Neville,” he heard Harry’s voice say.

Neville felt himself being pulled up by his cloak.

“Harry? Is that you? Do you know what’s happening?”

“No idea — sit down — "

As he tried to sit down, he realized too late that what he was trying to sit on was much too lumpy. And sharp. And it made a hissing noise.

“Ah! Oops!”

He didn’t think his heart could take another scare.

“I’m going to go and ask the driver what’s going on," said someone that sounded a lot like Hermione.

The door opened again and there was a thud, paired with twin yelps.

“Who’s that?”

“Who’s _that_?”

“Ginny?”

“Hermione?”

“What are you doing?”

“I was looking for Ron—”

“Come in and sit down—”

Across from Neville, Harry said “Not here! _I’m_ here!”

He felt his toes being stepped on (“Ouch!”) when a voice Neville didn’t recognize said, “Quiet!”

There was a crackling noise as light began to fill the compartment. Neville could suddenly see the tired face of the unknown man.

“Stay where you are,” He said, his voice distinctly hoarse. The man tried to get to the door, but something outside got to it first.

In the door was a dark cloaked figure. Neville had a feeling he knew what it was. The figure stuck it's hand out of its cloak; it looked slimy and rotten.

The creature drew a breath, and, in an instant, Neville knew he was right about the creature. Neville felt cold wash over him, and he was overwhelmed with a distinct feeling that nothing would ever be able to warm him. Before he knew it, he was drowning, his eyes closed, he wasn’t going to live any longer…

_His mom was screaming and writhing in her hospital bed. He had only come to visit, and she had suddenly begun convulsing, and screaming. He would never get that scream out of his head…_

“Harry!”

“Neville!”

Someone was shaking his shoulders. When he opened his eyes, he could see Ginny and Hermione above him. He felt like his muscles would never move again.

Hermione and Ginny helped him back into his seat across from Harry. The unknown man and Ron were helping Harry do just the same. The train was moving again, and the lanterns were on.

“Are you two okay?” asked the unknown man.

Neville looked at him. “I guess—who are you?”

“Remus Lupin, I’m your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“Professor,” Harry cut in, “What happened? Where’s that—that thing? Who screamed?”

Neville felt even more weak at Harry’s words. _What did he see?_

Ron squirmed nervously. “No one screamed.”

“But I heard screaming—”

Lupin began snapping apart a chocolate bar, scaring everyone but Neville, who had been watching the man.

“Here,” Lupin said, giving both Neville and Harry large pieces of the chocolate. “Eat it. It’ll help.”

Neville took his and ate it right away, trusting that Lupin was telling the truth. The chocolate warmed him from the inside out. It felt unlike any Warming Charm he had ever experienced. Neville figured that such a charm wouldn’t work on the kind of cold he had felt from the dementor.

Harry, without eating his chocolate, asked, “What was that thing?”

Lupin was giving chocolate to the other passengers. Neville knew the answer to Harry’s question, but the professor beat him to it.

“A dementor,” he said. “One of the dementors of Azkaban.”

Lupin turned back around to Harry. “Eat. It’ll help. I need to speak with the driver, excuse me…”

“Are you sure you two are okay?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“I don’t get it… what happened?

Neville’s grandmother had taught him all about Azkaban when Sirius Black broke out. His voice returned to him. “Dementors. They’re the guards of Azkaban. They’re very Dark creatures…”

Everyone in the compartment stared at him.

Neville shrugged. “That's what my gran told me, at least.”

Ron continued explaining what happened. “When you two passed out, you both went rigid and started twitching, like you were having some kind of fit—”

“And Professor Lupin stepped over you two and walked toward the dementor,” Hermione explained. “He pulled out his wand and said ‘None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.’ But the dementor didn’t move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away.”

“Was it just me and Neville who passed out?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” said Hermione.

Neville averted his eyes, feeling something horrible in his stomach at the thought that he had passed out just because the dementor had been in the room. He quickly stood and addressed the cabin. “I guess I better get back to Dean and Seamus before they start worrying too much.”

Lupin was just outside the door as he was heading back to Seamus and Dean.

“Hey, are you okay? Did you eat all your chocolate?” Lupin asked, seeming fussy and worried.

“Yeah, yeah, I just thought I’d get back to my compartment,” Neville said, anxious to avoid further questioning.

“May I ask, what’s your name?”

“Neville.”

A short pause.

“Well, Neville, I’m sorry to meet you in such an instance, but pleased to meet you all the same. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other throughout the year.” Lupin gave Neville a tight smile and made for Harry’s compartment.

As Neville opened the door to his own compartment, he was immediately bombed with questions from Seamus.

“What took you so long? I saw that thing pass by our door. What the heck was that?”

Neville explained as much as he could without mentioning the fact that he and Harry passed out.

“Man, that’s weird. You say they were looking for Sirius Black? I mean there’s no way he could be on the train…”

Seamus gave a shrug, seemingly to nobody, and switched topics to Quidditch.

Neville looked out the window, still a near constant grey. He wondered _why_ he had passed out, and, even more why _Harry_ had passed out. As the train moved along the Scottish wilderness, Neville tried to think of reasons why. He would ask Lupin, since the man seemed pretty knowledgeable on the topic of dementors, but he felt nervous at the idea of approaching the man.

Eventually, the train pulled in, and Neville silently picked up Trevor’s cage and got out of the train.

He, Seamus, and Dean got in the same carriage. The horse-like creature that Neville didn’t know the name of let out a long breath and began to pull forward. Neville had always been able to see the creatures, but when he had asked Dean and Seamus if they knew what it was last year, Neville found out that the other two couldn’t see them. He’s wondered since then about the strange, pitch black, sometimes-invisible creatures who led the carriages.

They slowly approached the school, and Neville took a moment to remember how _grand_ the castle really was. He sometimes wondered why they needed such a big castle when they didn’t even have that many classes available. He wondered a few times if he could get away with trying to explore the castle for little-used corridors or hidden rooms, but he always dismissed the idea, scared of being caught or lost.

Neville got out of the carriage once it stopped and began ambling into the entrance hall of Hogwarts. He was behind Harry, Ron and Hermione, about to walk into the Great Hall for the Sorting, when--

“Potter! Granger! Longbottom! I need to see you three.”

The three kids turned around, surprised. It was Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, the house to which Harry, Hermione, and Neville all belonged.

Neville was immediately nervous. He had a knack for getting himself in trouble for stupid mistakes. He had certainly been reprimanded by McGonagall before, and didn’t want to ever be on the receiving end of that wrath again.

As the three approached tentatively, she quelled their worries. “There’s no need to look so worried—I just want a word in my office.” She looked at Ron, who had joined his friends; Seamus and Dean had long moved on into the hall already. “Move along there, Weasley.”

Harry, Hermione, and Neville were guided back across the entrance and up a marble staircase.

As they entered Professor McGonagall’s office, she motioned for the three to sit down. “Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you two had taken ill on the train,” she said, motioning to Harry and Neville.

There was a knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the school’s nurse, was soon swooping in to care for the two boys.

Neville didn’t need a mirror to know his face had started turning red, and a glance to the side showed him that Harry was in a similar state. He couldn’t help but feel like there was a bit of an overreaction here.

“What happened to you two?” Pomfrey asked.

McGonagall answered, with a dark look on her face. “It was a dementor, Poppy.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Madam Pomfrey had been feeling Harry’s forehead and was quickly moving to check Neville’s. “Setting dementors around a school. They won’t be the last ones to collapse. Yes, they’re both clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate—”

Harry vehemently denied the idea that he was delicate. Neville, however, just became even more red in the face. He knew he was weak. He thought of what his grandmother would think.

“What do they need?” McGonagall asked, “Bed rest? A night in the hospital wing?”

“I’m _fine!_ ” Harry exclaimed.

“I’m doing okay, if you don’t mind,” Neville said timidly. “I think Harry and I will be fine.”

“Well, you two need chocolate at the very least.” Madam Pomfrey said.

“We’ve already had some,” Harry cut in. “Professor Lupin gave it to us.”

“Did he now?" Pomfrey asked approvingly. “So, we’ve finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?”

“Are you sure you two will be alright?” McGonagall asked.

“Yes.” Neville and Harry said in unison.

“Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Mrs. Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together.”

Harry and Neville looked at each other, confused, and got up, Madam Pomfrey following. She immediately left for the hospital wing, leaving the two boys in awkward silence until Hermione exited the office looking very happy, Professor McGonagall in tow. Neville wondered absently what the professor said that had made Hermione so happy.

As they walked toward the Great Hall, Professor Flitwick, the wizard who taught Charms, was leaving the hall with a three-legged stool and an old large hat.

“Oh,” Hermione exclaimed, “we’ve missed the Sorting.”

Harry and Hermione moved to sit on either side of Ron, while Neville silently made for the opposite side of the table to sit next to Seamus.

“Hey, where did you go?” he asked.

“McGonagall. No big deal.”

Neville had barely finished answering when Dumbledore stood to speak.

“Welcome…”

From the moment Dumbledore began speaking, Neville’s mind returned to the –

“…dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry business…”

After the incident on the train, Neville couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the idea of dementors staying at Hogwarts year-round.

_Besides, won’t that mean less security at Azkaban?_

“…First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Neville perked up at the name and clapped loudly amongst the mostly unenthusiastic applause.

“As to our second new appointment… Rubeus Hagrid has agreed to take on Care of Magical Creatures in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”

Many people, especially at the Gryffindor table, applauded loudly at this announcement.

“Well I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”

The table filled with food and drink. Neville wasn’t particularly hungry, but he grabbed some bread to stave off the hunger he knew would come eventually.

The feast ended after an agonizing two hours. As Neville made his way up to the Gryffindor Common Room, the school’s new Head Boy, Percy Weasley, pushed past him.

“Coming through, coming through! The new password’s ‘Fortuna Major’!”

“Oh no,” Neville groaned. He was rotten at remembering passwords.

Everyone, except Neville, went straight up to their beds. Neville had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep just yet. The gravity of what he experienced on the train was hitting him full force.

It’s one thing, reliving that particular memory in his dreams. But experiencing it because of the dementor was another thing entirely. It was as though he was there, in the moment, experiencing it for the first time, although _now_ he knew exactly why the memory was so horrible.

Neville sat in front in front of the fire for a while, staring at the flames, feeling horrible waves of emotion in his chest as he tried not to think about it.

Trying not to think about it, he soon figured out, was a surefire way to remember _exactly_ what he was trying to forget. He gave up, and slipped into memories of the last time he went to St. Mungo’s, the visit that changed everything…

_Going here always made Neville feel slightly sick. It had a specific smell, the kind of smell that was forever associated with horrible memories._

_He and Gran went all the way up to the closed ward. It was his first time coming here since Christmas, so he wasn’t so surprised to see new faces in the beds. People came in and out of here every six months or so. A lot of them would simply die, overcome by the condition they were brought in for._

_However, he_ was _surprised by one of the new faces._

_“Gilderoy, sweetheart, it’s lunchtime.”_

_Neville turned his head as he walked in, only to see the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from the school year that had just ended. He knew the professor wouldn’t be returning to teach; however, he hadn’t known exactly what happened to the man._

_“Good afternoon, Mrs. Longbottom,” said Tillie, one of the nurses he recognized from last time. He was surprised; not very many nurses stayed in this ward. It’s a very demanding job, requiring constant awareness._

_“They’ve been doing just fine,” Tillie continued. She didn’t say much else, as Gran was already on her way to the curtained off beds in the corner._

_Neville followed, carrying the stuffed lion they had bought in Diagon Alley before coming here. His parent’s loved stuffed animals, especially his mother. He was never exactly sure why. They were one of the only things to which his parents responded._

_Neville passed by the curtains after his grandmother, and he took a good look at his parents._

_Grey, unkempt hair, old and empty faces. Dad was lying down, looking blankly at the ceiling. Mom was sat up a bit with the last stuffed animal he brought, a snowman, in her hands. She rubbed back and forth on the snowman’s belly._

_Neville walked cautiously up to his mother’s bed. She looked up at him. Her eyes were unknowing. He handed her the lion. She dropped to snowman to grab the lion and it fell on the ground at his feet. He kneeled, picked it up, and brought the snowman to the space between the beds, which was filled with stuffed animals from previous visits._

_He looked at the stack and picked up another lion; Neville wasn’t there for the purchase of this one. He put it on his father’s hand, and only then did he move out of his trance. He picked up the lion and began tossing it a little between his hands._

_Neville turned back to his mother, and she, surprisingly, looked back. She was almost… seeing._

_And then, horrible screams filled the room. Coming from his mother’s mouth._ _All he had done was look at her, and she was suddenly writhing in the bed, making horrible noises._

_The nurses had moved fast, putting up spells to contain the sound to just within two feet of her. Neville soon heard silence again, but he was shocked to his core. He continued to look at his mother, unable to move his eyes._

_This had never happened before._

Neville was so sunk into his memories, he failed to notice that none other than Harry Potter himself was travelling down the steps that led to the boy’s dormitories.

“Hey. I noticed you hadn’t come up.”

Neville noticed for the first time the wetness on his face. He ducked it, moving quickly to wipe it away.

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Not tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Same here...”

Harry sat down in the big fluffy chair next to the sofa on which Neville was sat. Neville hoped that Harry hadn’t seen him crying.

Harry cleared his throat. “Um, I was wondering, um, if you knew why it was us two who passed out? Why it wasn’t the others?”

Neville just looked at Harry for a moment, feeling brittle, not trusting his voice to be steady. He couldn’t remain silent, though.

“I’m – I’m not sure… I was thinking about asking Professor Lupin…”

Neville moved his eyes back to the fire, though he felt the other boy’s eyes remain locked onto him.

“Did… you see anything? When you passed out?”

Neville didn’t respond. He didn’t even shake his head. He felt almost paralyzed by the horrible feeling in his head and chest and throat.

Harry was quickly flustered from the shock of asking the question. “Ah - I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have asked – good night.”

Harry made a quick exit. Neville didn’t exactly feel like following and remained in the chair.

It’s wasn’t that he didn’t feel proud of his parents, that he didn’t appreciate their sacrifice. He just desperately didn’t want to talk about it. The knowledge of the full truth was still too fresh. Harry Potter had it easy in that aspect. Everyone in the wizarding world was already familiar with his story. One look at his forehead and everyone knew what had happened to his parents. Neville, meanwhile, was still unable to give a proper explanation to most people as to why he was in the care of his grandmother.

Neville waited a good amount of time to be sure that Harry would be asleep before heading up to the boys’ dormitories. He got ready for bed, but when the time came, it took a while before he could go to sleep. _Their_ names kept repeating in his head.

_Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Bartemius Crouch Jr._


	2. The Boggart in the Wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third year Gryffindors' first lesson with Lupin goes a bit wonky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited on 4/21/2020.

The first week of classes had been quite normal so far, but, now that it was Thursday, all the third-year Gryffindors were getting excited about their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. So far, they’d heard good things about Professor Lupin from those who had already been to his class.

The day, however, had started rather abysmally. Potions with Professor Snape was never fun for Neville. Or really any Gryffindor, for that matter. Neville’s anxiety was always ramped up to ten in that class. And, on this particular Thursday, it went past ten and up to eleven.

When making a Shrinking Solution, Neville was at a stage in the brew where the potion should have been bright green. But, instead, it was –

“Orange, Longbottom,” said Professor Snape. “Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn’t you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn’t I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?”

Neville just knew his face was red as a beet. What’s worse, he felt a lump in his throat that indicated a threat of tears.

It was stupid. Sometimes the smallest things managed to make him feel like crying. Here he was, an inch from tears over a stupid potion.

Hermione, bless her, offered to help, but Snape simply stared at her with a cold look in his eyes.

“I don’t remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,” said Snape, his face devoid of compassion. “Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.”

Now, Neville was in a right panic. He turned to Hermione and mouthed, “Help me!”

She helped him by whispering instructions to him.

In the end, his toad didn’t get poisoned. The Gryffindors all cheered, glad that Neville ended up getting it right. However…

“Five points from Gryffindor,” said Snape, looking sour as ever. “I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed.”

He was embarrassed enough to refuse lunch, choosing to lay his head in his arms on the table. He always felt horrible when he got points taken from his house.

Neville remained sullen on the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Professor Lupin wasn’t in the room when he entered. The room was the same as it had been the past couple of years, with the exception of decoration. Last year, the room had been surrounded in portraits of Gilderoy Lockhart. Neville shuddered a little, remembering where the man was nowadays.

The class slowly spilled into the classroom, murmurs of excitement getting louder and louder. Seamus, now sitting across the row from him, was talking to Dean about the rumors he had heard of the teacher. Neville wondered to himself if the lessons would live up to their reputation.

The bell rang, and Professor Lupin was still nowhere to be seen.

The murmuring continued to grow into talking, filling the room with conversation, right up until -

Professor Lupin finally showed up about a minute after the bell, shabbily dressed but with an air of confidence about him. His face looked less gray than it had on the train.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “Would you please put all your books back in your bags? Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands.”

There was a buzz of excitement throughout the class. This was new by Defense Against the Dark Arts standards. The previous two teachers shied away from practical lessons. Neville didn’t blame Lockhart on that front; their only practical lesson ended with Neville suspended from the ceiling.

They began to walk to the staffroom, and the class resumed its murmuring.

“I wonder what we’re doing?” said Seamus, almost to himself.

Peeves was causing a havoc in the hallway as they walked to their destination. Peeves noticed Lupin walking toward him as he was stuffing a keyhole with chewing gum.

He broke into song. “Loony, loopy Lupin! Loony loopy Lupin! Loony loopy Lupin - !”

The students looked amongst themselves with an air of disbelief. It was extremely uncommon for Peeves to pick on a teacher.

Professor Lupin simply smiled, unaffected by the song, and said, “I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves. Mr. Filch won’t be able to get into his brooms.”

In response, Peeves blew a raspberry.

Lupin sighed, took out his wand, and looked toward his students.

“This is a useful little spell. Please watch closely.”

He pointed his wand at Peeves and said, “ _Waddiwasi!_ ”

The chewing gum flew straight into Peeves’ nose, and the poltergeist was soon flying past, cursing.

Neville smiled. He already liked Professor Lupin a lot.

Professor Lupin opened the door to the staffroom, where their lesson would take place. Just as Lupin was about to close the door behind them, Snape, who Neville only just realized was in the room, spoke up. The feeling he had in Potions class that morning returned, and he turned his head to the wall to avoid looking at anyone.

“Leave it open, Lupin,” said Snape. “I’d rather not witness this.”

There was the sound of steps getting closer to the door, and then it stopped for a moment.

“Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin,” Snape continued. “But this class contains Neville Longbottom.”

 _Great._ Neville felt his face flush again.

“I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless you Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

Lupin responded immediately. “You know, I was hoping Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I’m sure he’ll perform it admirably.”

If Neville thought it was impossible to be more flushed than he was before, he was sorely mistaken.

Snape simply sneered and exited, shutting the door rather loudly.

“Now, then,” said Professor Lupin, as he walked to the end of the staffroom, where a wardrobe was wobbled rather dangerously.

A few people jumped at the rattling sound. “No need to worry. There’s a boggart in there.”

_Well, this day just keeps getting worse._

Neville had encountered a boggart before. He encountered one when he was seven…

 _He had just been in his bedroom, reading_ Hogwarts, A History, _a book Gran had given him. She wanted him to learn all he could about the school he would be attending, now that he was confirmed to have magic._

_He was on the page about all the ghosts. The Grey Lady, The Bloody Baron. Sir Nicholas. He was approaching Peeves the Poltergeist when he heard a horrible scream. He knew the only person in the house was his grandmother._

_He felt his blood turn to ice. Shaking, he closed the book and moved toward the door._

_He knew he should have been running. What if his Gran was being hurt? But his body seemed to want to stay in place._

_Neville forced himself to keep moving. He made his way to the door from which the screams were coming and opened the door._

_His grandmother was on the ground, crying._

_There were two people on the ground as well. Screaming. Writhing._

_The next thing Neville knew, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t take his eyes off the two people writhing. Who were they? What’s wrong with them…?_

His grandmother had explained it to him later that day.

Looking back, now, he knew exactly what her worst fear was. He also knew that she was living it.

Lupin had been talking through Neville’s rumination. Neville only tuned back in when Professor Lupin asked, “So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a boggart?”

Neville was fairly certain that anyone who grew up in a wizarding family could answer that question. Boggarts were a common household pest. But Hermione was so excited to answer that Lupin picked on her among a sea of reluctant hands.

“It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever frightens us most.”

Lupin smiled. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. So, the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

“This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Lupin looked at Harry, who seemed slightly startled at being picked out and distracted by an enthusiastic Hermione.

“Er – because there are so many of us it won’t know what shape it would be?”

“Precisely,” said Professor Lupin. “It’s always best…”

Neville thought about how he would have to be the first to face the boggart. He found himself wondering exactly what he feared most. Many things came to mind. Professor Snape. Dementors–

_Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Bartemius Crouch Jr._

He blanched at the thought.

“The charm that repels a boggart is simple yet is requires force of mind,” said Lupin. “You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is _laughter_. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

“We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… _Riddikulus!_ ”

“ _Riddikulus!_ ” said the class together.

“Good. Very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone isn’t enough. And this is where you come in, Neville.”

Neville looked at his professor. Frankly, Neville didn’t want any more attention, but backing out would surely bring even more of it, so he came forward.

“Right, Neville,” Said Professor Lupin. “First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?”

No matter how much he didn’t want to be the center of attention, the prospect of facing his worst fear right there in front of the classroom was infinitely worse.

He was paralyzed. He refused to look anyone in the eye, keeping his eyes somewhere near everyone’s feet. He didn’t want to say it…

Professor Lupin’s face slowly grew confused, and then darkened. The rest of the class was confused, whispering amongst themselves.

Neville looked up at Professor Lupin, trying to convey the fact that he _couldn’t_ face the boggart. Lupin stared back for a few seconds. The whispering got louder.

“Never mind,” said Lupin frankly, still looking at Neville. “Come to think of it – Harry?”

The Harry moved his eyes from Neville to Lupin.

“Harry, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to step down for today’s lesson.”

Harry moved next to Neville, thoroughly confused.

The wardrobe began to shake more violently.

Professor Lupin looked at his class, searching for a new candidate for the first round.

He finally settled. “Ronald Weasley? Would you mind demonstrating this spell today?”

Ron nodded and moved awkwardly toward the wardrobe.

Lupin moved smoothly on, though the whispering continued. “Alright. If Ron is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn. I would like all of you to take a moment to imagine how you might force it to look comical.”

Lupin paused to let everyone think.

Neville thought what he would do and had a very hard time figuring a way to make _them_ look comical.

“Everyone ready?” he asked.

Some kids nodded.

“Ron, we’re going to back away,” said Professor Lupin. “Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward… Everyone back, now, so Ron can get a clear shot – On the count of three, Ron; one – two – three – _now!_ ”

There was the crackling noise of a spell and the wardrobe flew open.

A giant spider crawled out of the wardrobe. Ron’s voice shook as he yelled “ _Riddikulus!_ ” and the spider was suddenly legless, rolling around on the ground.

The class began to clap and laugh, and Professor Lupin shouted, “Parvati, forward!”

Neville remained in the background, sitting behind Lupin. He watched as the boggart turned into a mummy, which fell flat on its face, a banshee who lost her voice.

A few more transformations later, Lupin yelled, “Forward, Ron, and finish him off!”

Ron quickly moved forward and everyone saw the spider again. Ron yelled “ _Riddikulus!_ ” once again, in a less wavy voice. The spider was once more rolling on the ground and –

The boggart exploded into tiny wisps of smoke.

“Excellent!” exclaimed Professor Lupin. “Excellent, Ron. Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart – ten for Ron because he did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” said Harry.

“You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of class, Harry. Very well, everyone…”

As they walked out the door, the Gryffindors were discussing the class animatedly. Neville stayed toward the back of the group, not feeling too good.

A hand wrapped around his arm. Startled, he turned to find it was Professor Lupin who had taken hold of him.

“What --?”

“Don’t worry, Neville, Harry, I just want to talk a little.”

Turned to see Lupin had also grabbed Harry. Neville felt his stomach drop, but continued to follow Lupin back to his classroom, in the opposite direction of the common room. If he had paid more attention, he would have noticed the others looking back at the two, confused.

When they reached the office, Lupin motioned for Neville and Harry to sit.

“I’m sorry, boys, for not letting you take a turn. I figured seeing Voldemort or any of his followers in class would cause some panic amongst the students.”

Neville looked anywhere but the other two people in the room.

“Excuse me, Professor, but did you think my boggart would turn into Voldemort?”

_Well, he was probably right about mine._

Lupin looked to Harry. “Was I mistaken?”

“Well,” said Harry, “I thought of Voldemort first, but I remembered the dementors…”

“I see,” said Lupin thoughtfully. “That suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise, Harry.”

Neville knew that the dementors weren’t his greatest fear. They were scary, sure. But there was something much worse to face in this world than dementors. At least, he thought so. Clearly, according to Lupin, Neville wasn’t wise.

Neville didn’t offer to reveal what his true fear likely would have been, and thankfully, Lupin didn’t ask. There was an awkward moment of silence before Lupin spoke again.

“Again, I apologize. You can return to your common room, now.”

* * *

Neville and Harry left the room. Neville spent his entire walk back to the common room thinking about the class he had just been in, so much so that he forgot about the trick stair once again. The one that would fall under your foot and leave you stuck with one foot dangling below the staircase and one leg above it, usually resulting in many pains. No matter how many times Neville fell for it, he never learned.

“Hold on,” said Harry. He grabbed hold on Neville’s hands and pulled him up and out of the trick stair.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

Neville brushed off his robes and said quietly “Yeah.”

He made to continue up the stairs to make it seem as though it was nothing. In reality, he had hit his knee rather hard on the way down. He was all too used to the pain and was familiar with a simple spell to ease it. Madam Pomfrey had taught him the spell after the third or fourth time he had forgotten the step.

When he got to the portrait, he realized that he had forgotten the password. Luckily, he was with Harry, who said to the Fat Lady “ _Fortuna Major._ ”

Neville turned to go to bed and fix his knee before starting his homework when Harry’s voice came from behind him.

“Would you like to work on homework with us?”

Harry was standing in front of the sofa about to sit, with Ron and Hermione at his sides. Hermione already had her schoolwork out and was working diligently. Ron had an essay roll out but was distracted by Harry’s invitation. He was looking curiously between Harry and Neville

“Sure,” Neville said after a short silence.

He sat down in the chair across from Hermione, with Harry and Ron sitting on the sofa between the two chairs. He pulled out the Potions homework assigned in class, resigned to the not-yet-faded pain in his knee, and then looked to see what everyone else was working on.

Harry was writing the word “Boggarts” at the top of his parchment. Apparently Neville hadn’t been paying enough attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Uh, did we have homework from Lupin?”

Hermione responded. “Yes, we have to read the chapter on boggarts and write a summary of it.”

“Oh,” said Neville.

He got out a small piece of parchment to write down all his homework, to make sure he didn’t forget something.

He remembered that Harry had said the password. _Fortuna Major_. He decided to write that down, as well, knowing he would be more likely to remember it if he wrote it down.

The four Gryffindors worked on homework until midnight. First Hermione left, having finished what homework she had.

Next, Ron moved to leave, making a double take when the other two didn’t get up.

“Are you two staying down here?”

Harry paused and looked at Ron for a second. “Yeah, I’m almost finished.”

Neville decided to make a quick exit to avoid any more uncomfortable questions.

“Well, I’m as done as I’m going to be, got to get to sleep!” Neville called, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. He brushed past Ron and went up to his bed.

He made quick work of getting ready for bed and had his curtains pulled by the time Harry and Ron came up. The silence was tense. The two boys had obviously talked about his behavior and Neville was obviously not asleep. Nobody said anything.

Neville laid there and thought about his first Defense class. Thinking on it now, it was a bummer that he hadn’t been allowed to perform the spell. Although he was fairly sure he didn’t want to see whatever would have shown up _._ He didn’t want to be seen as a coward, although he knew he was one.

He thought about what his grandmother had told him at the train station.

_“You need to learn to defend yourself.”_

Neville contemplated. He _wanted_ to learn how to defend himself; he _wanted_ to prove to his grandmother that he could do it. The only thing was, he didn’t know _how_ to teach himself Defensive magic. Unless he _could_ get someone to teach him…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville wants to get extra lessons with Professor Lupin to learn how to better defend himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was edited on 4/23/2020.

“I came here to speak with you about getting extra lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Neville’s hands were shaking, though he tried his best to hide it. Sitting behind his desk, Lupin looked at Neville curiously. He took a sip of tea before responding to the boy’s request.

“Why, exactly, do you want to take extra lessons?”

Neville anticipated this question and had created an excuse in his head. However, he couldn’t help but stutter as he replied.

“Th- The dementors, sir.”

Lupin continued to look at Neville, as though examining him.

“Well, I certainly don’t blame you,” the professor finally said. “There is a powerful and very difficult spell you can use to ward off dementors. It is useful in general defense as well. But something tells me you’re interested in more than defense against just dementors.”

Neville figured there’d be no point in arguing. “Well… it’s just that… after Sirius Black, my grandmother wants me to get better at defense.”

He paused for a moment.

“ _I_ want to get better at defense, sir.”

The professor hummed, then looked at Neville a second longer, his eyes still squinted. It felt as though the professor was looking right through him. Finally –

“Okay. I can give you extra lessons. Give me a week to figure out some kind of lesson plan. We will meet every other Thursday, starting two weeks from now, after right after our regular Defense lesson is over.”

Neville certainly didn’t expect such a sudden agreement to his request. He’d thought the professor would have at least thought about it for a bit longer before saying yes.

Neville had taken a leap of faith. The night before, he stayed up well past midnight imagining what it would be like to get extra defense lessons from Professor Lupin. He thought of proving his worth to his grandmother, of showing her that he _could_ live up to his parents. He thought of how he would finally be able to _defend_ himself if _they_ got out of prison.

Neville felt light and giddy as he walked back to the common room, still shaking from the nerves but relieved at his success.

After he said the password to the Fat Lady (he had managed to remember it after writing it down), Neville immediately went to sit next to Dean and Seamus, who were sitting at a round table close to the fireplace.

“Where were you?” asked Seamus.

Neville hesitated, but figured there was no point in trying to avoid the question.

“I went to Professor Lupin to ask for extra lessons.”

Dean looked at Neville, confused. “How come?”

“Oh, well you know, I’m not the best at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and my gran wanted me to get better.” It wasn’t lying, strictly speaking. That was _part_ of the reason Neville had asked for extra lessons.

“Well, with Sirius Black out of Azkaban, I’m surprised more people aren’t asking for extra lessons,” said Seamus.

The three friends stayed silent for a few moments. He turned to look around the room, on a whim, and, behind him, Harry’s face whipped away at Neville’s look.

* * *

_I wonder what Lupin is going to teach me…_

Neville didn’t understand much about defensive magic. He had just sent a letter to his grandmother informing her of his decision to get extra lessons. He thought nervously about how she would respond…

The floor fell from under his foot. He had fallen for the trick stair once more. Once again, the same knee he had hurt last time took a hard blow. As he pushed himself up using the stair above, the pain in his knee reached cosmic proportions.

_Did I break my kneecap?_

He stood up and knew for sure that was the case. He decided this would be better cared for by Madam Pomfrey, so he headed toward the hospital wing, wincing and limping the entire way.

“It’s no matter, Mr. Longbottom,” said Madam Pomfrey after he explained what happened, “I’ll get that fixed right away.”

Neville sat upright in the bed she had pushed him towards, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to finish her ministrations.

“Alright,” she said, handing Neville a vial, “I fixed the bone, but it’s still going to hurt a bit. Drink this for the pain.”

Neville, experienced in taking potions from Madam Pomfrey, downed the vial quickly to minimize the amount of time he had to experience the awful taste.

He walked back to the common room, still feeling residual pain in his knee that made it difficult to walk correctly.

There weren’t many people in the common room. Dean and Seamus were nowhere to be found. Sitting in front of the fire were Harry, Ron and Hermione, once again working on assignments. When Neville walked past, Harry turned his head to look at him.

“Hey, Neville, join us?” he asked.

It was weird, how often Harry seemed to want to spend time with him nowadays. It was a new development, but not altogether unwelcome.

Neville replied with a nonchalant “sure”. He went upstairs to grab his bag and came back down. He put his bag down, sat down across from Hermione, and got his schoolwork out. Astronomy, Divination, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and, worst of all, Potions.

As Neville sat amongst Harry, Ron, and Hermione, each quietly working on homework, he felt slightly uncomfortable. Sure, he knew all three of them as acquaintances, but he had hardly spent a large amount of time with any of them. It seemed that Harry in particular was the one who wanted to talk to Neville most.

“So, Neville, I heard you’re taking extra lessons with Professor Lupin,” said Harry, looking down.

Neville remembered Harry had been looking at them when he had told Dean and Seamus about the lessons.

He looked at Harry, wondering where he was going with this. “Um, yeah, I just figured I needed it, what with me not being that good at it.”

Hermione interjected. “If you needed extra lessons for grades, you should probably be doing extra Potions.”

Neville’s face went red. He still felt bad for asking Hermione to help him with Potions before and getting points taken from Gryffindor.

“Well, my gran also really wanted me to do it,” Neville explained.

Hermione nodded, now also red in the face. Neville wondered why.

“What kind of lessons are these?” asked Harry.

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Neville. “He didn’t really say. I guess it’s going to be defensive spells and such…”

Harry nodded and turned back to his homework, a crease in his forehead.

Neville turned his head, his impulse to ask winning out.

“Why do you ask?” he said.

Harry didn’t answer for a moment.

* * *

Neville was once again walking towards Professor Lupin’s office feeling incredibly nervous, but, this time, he had Harry walking next to him.

Neville knocked on the office door and opened it slowly.

“Um… Professor Lupin…”

Lupin look up from his work, clearly surprised to see Neville again, and even more so at the sight of Harry.

“Yes?” said Lupin.

Harry took the reins. “Sir, I was wondering if I could be included in your extra lessons with Neville.”

After a second, Lupin nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Neville, are you okay with that?”

Neville nodded, astounded at the willingness of Professor Lupin to teach the both of him. Neville was, truthfully, nervous at the idea of having another person in his extra lessons, but he supposed if anyone was going to join, Harry wasn’t the worst. He shuddered at the thought of being in extra Defense lessons with Draco Malfoy.

“Very well,” Lupin said.

* * *

When the day came, the Defense classroom had been cleared of all but one of its desks, leaving the last one at the front of the room. It had two chairs on one side and one chair on the other. Lupin was standing in the middle of the room, seemingly waiting for Harry and Neville

Harry and Neville nervously shuffled in. Neville felt on edge; to be honest, he was starting to regret the fact that he approached the professor at all. Lupin gestured for them to sit in the two chairs facing the door. As soon as they sat down, Lupin sat down opposite them.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m going to start simple. You may already know these spells; you may have already performed them. What _I_ want to make sure of is that you can do them _consistently_.

“That being said, this first lesson will be about _Expelliarmus_ , the Disarming Charm, and _Protego,_ the Shield Charm”

Lupin looked at the Neville and Harry each in turn.

“Now it’s simple enough. To disarm, simply point your wand to the person you intend to disarm,” – Lupin brought out his wand pointed it at Harry, who had been fiddling with his wand –” and say “ _Expelliarmus_.”

As soon as the professor said the spell, Harry’s wand flew out of his hand. Harry jumped a little, and Neville reached for the fallen wand that landed near his foot. Harry quietly thanked him.

“And the Shield Charm,” Lupin continued, “can easily defend against such a Disarming Charm, as well as many others. A simple flick of the wand in the direction of the incoming spell, and then the incantation.

Lupin looked in Neville’s direction. “Now, Neville, send me some red sparks.”

Neville got his wand out and did as Lupin said.

Lupin flicked his wand, said “ _Protego,_ ” and the red sparks simply disappeared at an invisible wall. Neville flinched embarrassingly, having expected there to be a noise.

“Now, then,” said Professor Lupin. “I would like to see where you two are at individually, and then you can try practicing with each other. Harry, you first.”

Lupin moved into the cleared-out space in the middle of the classroom. Harry stood warily and moved to a point about five feet away from Lupin.

“Alright, Harry,” said Lupin. “I’d like you to first disarm me.”

Harry rolled his shoulders, pointed his wand at the professor, and said “ _Expelliarmus._ ” Lupin’s wand fell from his hand and dropped onto the ground directly below.

“Very good,” said Professor Lupin, picking his wand up. “And now, I will try to disarm you and you will try to block it. I will count to three –”

The two wizards raised their wands towards each other.

“One, two, three – _Expelliarmus!_ ”

“ _Protego!_ ”

The result was Harry’s wand falling to the ground once again.

“That’s fine, the Shield Charm tends to be a bit more difficult. This is a good start. Now, Neville?”

The fact that Harry had failed at producing a Shield Charm made Neville feel no less nervous about demonstrating these spells. In fact, it made him more nervous. If Harry wasn’t able to produce a Shield Charm, how on earth was Neville going to?

Neville stood as Harry sat down, Harry awkwardly smiling at him in encouragement. Neville went to the same spot Harry had just been standing, feeling the adrenaline in his chest.

“This will be the same as with Harry,” said Professor Lupin. “Disarm me.”

Neville pointed his wand at Lupin and noticed his hand was shaking. He shook his head, and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“E- _Expelliarmus_ ,” said Neville.

Lupin’s wand nudged but did not fall.

Neville turned his head away from Lupin and Harry, as if he could ignore the fact that that just happened.

“Perfectly alright,” said Lupin in a pacifying manner. “You’ll have to practice putting more force behind the spell. Now the Shield Charm, on three.”

Neville turned his head back to Lupin and got ready.

“One, two, three – _Expelliarmus_!”

“ _Protego!_ ”

Same as Harry’s before, Neville’s wand fell out of his hand.

“Like I said before, it’s a bit more difficult,” Professor Lupin said, returning to the chair he was sat in at the beginning of the lesson. Neville took this as his cue to return to his seat as well.

“Okay, you two, now that I know where each of you is at, I can recommend practice. I would like you to spend about five minutes just disarming each other in here. It seems that Harry can do it, but there’s more to this spell than simply knowing how to perform it.”

Lupin looked intently at his students, leaning forward. “I need the Disarming Spell to become second nature to the both of you. It is simple, yet it can be _extremely_ effective when trying to defend yourself.” Lupin leaned back again. “You may start.”

Neville and Harry got up once again and went to the clearing. As they started, Neville consistently failed to disarm Harry, meanwhile Neville’s wand was getting thrown farther and farther every third time Harry did the charm.

As Neville picked his wand up for the nth time, he closed his eyes, frustrated.

It was his turn to perform the spell once again, and he didn’t think the result would change. He pointed the wand toward Harry, took a deep breath, and said “ _Expelliarmus_ ” once again.

This time, Harry’s wand finally fell to the ground.

“There you go, Neville!” said Professor Lupin, who began to clap.

Neville smiled shyly as Harry smiled began to clap as well.

When the lesson was over, Lupin informed them they would meet every other week from here on out. Harry and Neville agreed to meet on the weeks they didn’t have lessons with Lupin in order to practice Disarming and Shielding. Professor Lupin agreed to let them use the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for practice, so that Lupin could observe if he wanted and give them pointers.

* * *

A couple of days after the first lesson, Neville came back to the common room from an after-class meeting with Professor McGonagall to find it buzzing with more conversation than usual. He didn’t feel much like spending time in the crowded room, and so went upstairs to his bed

“Hey Neville! You’re coming to Hogsmeade on Halloween, right?” asked Seamus the second he entered the room.

_Oh!_

Seamus and Dean were in the former’s bed, sitting cross-legged across from each other.

“Yeah, sure!” Neville said, suddenly feeling excited. “Are we going together?”

“For sure,” said Seamus. “We should plan where we’re going to go…”

* * *

The next morning, Neville sat amongst Dean, Seamus, Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. The latter three all looked fairly glum. Neville was about to ask what was wrong when –

“You three look like someone just died,” said Seamus callously.

“Someone nearly did!” Ron said loudly, an air of distress about him. “Hermione’s bloody cat won’t leave Scabbers alone.”

Hermione looked even more upset at Ron’s words, and started picking at her food solemnly.

“And what about you, Harry?” asked Dean.

“Huh?” asked Harry, as he had been staring out into space.

“What’s wrong with you? You look like a kicked puppy. No offense,” said Seamus.

Harry sighed. “I didn’t get my Hogsmeade paper signed by my aunt and uncle because I blew up my Aunt Marge.”

“Blew up your Aunt Marge?” asked Seamus, eyes opened comically wide.

Harry nodded matter-of-factly, as if this was a normal occurrence.

“Hey, maybe I could help you!” said Dean, not acknowledging the strange nature of Harry’s statement. “I’m great at forging signatures.”

Hermione gave Harry a look that said she disapproved, which they all ignored.

“Really?” asked Harry. “I’ll try anything at this point, honestly. I was going to try and ask Professor McGonagall to sign it today after class.”

Seamus laughed. “Yeah, like hell she’d do that. You’ve got a much better chance with Dean’s plan.”

Harry handed his paper over to Dean, who grabbed it and a quill.

“His name is Vernon Dursley,” added Harry.

Dean wrote Harry’s uncle’s name with an impressive sloppy cursive. However, as soon as it was written the name disappeared.

Hermione, who had been watching, hummed. “There must be an Anti-Forgery Charm on the papers.”

Dean tried the signature again, with the same results.

“Ah, well,” Dean sighed. “Sorry, mate” He handed the paper back to Harry.

Harry took the paper back glumly. “No worries, I should have known it was too good to be true.”

The first class of the day, Herbology, was a breeze, as usual. Neville seemed a natural at the subject, although it was never particularly impressive to his grandmother. They were working with puffapods, and Neville managed to stay ahead of the class, stripping the pink pods from the plants with ease. As he was working, he watched as Ron missed the pail trying to collect the pods. On the ground, the pods immediately began to bloom.

“Careful, Weasley, careful!” cried Professor Sprout.

 _Fascinating_ , Neville thought as he looked at the sprouts on the ground, managing to miss the pail himself in his distraction.

“Oh dear,” said Sprout as she began to bend over and pick up the blooms and throw them into an extra pail. Red-faced, Neville joined her.

Next was Transfiguration. At the end of the lesson, Professor McGonagall addressed the class about Hogsmeade.

“One moment, please!” she called. “As you’re all in my house, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don’t forget!”

Swept up in the excitement of going to Hogsmeade, it had completely slipped Neville’s mind that he needed a permission slip himself, and didn’t remember even bringing one with him on the train. He began to feel butterflies in his stomach as he put his hand up. “Please, Professor, I – I think I’ve lost –”

“Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom,” said Professor McGonagall. “She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that’s all, you may leave.”

Neville felt a wave of relief, as well as a dash of embarrassment for getting worked up about it. He picked up his belongings and walked out with Dean and Seamus.

As they walked, Dean shook his head. “Poor Potter. He’s definitely not going to convince Professor McGonagall to let him go.”

Neville felt silent compassion for the boy. He knew he would have felt horrible if he was in Harry’s situation.

* * *

On Halloween morning, Seamus, Dean and Neville huddled up at the breakfast table.

“Alright,” said Seamus. “We have a game plan. Zonko’s, Honeyduke’s, Dogweed and Deathcap – Neville, do we have to stop there?”

“I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, we could go another time…”

Dean smiled fondly and gave Seamus a pointed look.

“Of course, we’ll go there with you,” said Dean. “Seamus is just kidding around.”

Neville nodded and smiled feebly, feeling as though he was missing something.

There was a line in the entrance hall to go to Hogsmeade. Filch was at the front of the line checking students’ names off a long list. Neville turned to look at everyone who was coming and noticed Harry towards the back, walking away as Ron and Hermione made their way closer to Filch.

Seamus ran forward once they had passed Filch’s inspection, yelling “Zonko’s!” all the way down the path. Dean was smiling at Seamus, who began doing a funny dance while walking.

Zonko’s was colorful and fun and came straight from Peeves’ wildest dreams. In other words, it was chaos. Seamus and Dean, both of whom seemed to look up to Fred and George Weasley, Hogwarts’ resident pranksters, each bought one of everything. Neville was partial to the Sugar Quills and bought a couple for himself.

Next, they stopped by Honeyduke’s; colorful, but more pastel than Zonko’s. This time, all three of them bought one of everything they could find. And there was a _lot_.

The three friends made their way to Dogweed and Deathcap, the local Herbology shop. Neville tried not to browse long, not wanting to annoy his friends. The store carried magical plants, food plants, and even some decorative Muggle plants. He settled on a plant called the Amplexus ivy, which looked nearly identical to a Golden Pothos ivy, with the exception that it would gently hug you if you touched it.

They stopped at the other, less exciting stores. They were determined to comb the whole place in their excitement at simply being in Hogsmeade for the first time. As Neville walked with the ivy’s pot in his arms, one of the plant’s tendrils snuck toward his shoulder, wrapping over it and down his back.

At last, they arrived at the Three Broomsticks Inn. Neville sat his plant down gently on the table and began to grab his Chocolate Frogs for trading. They each ordered a butterbeer, glad for it in the slightly chilly weather.

Neville got two Chocolate Frog cards he already had and one that he didn’t.

“Anyone want a Lufkin or a Dippet?” he asked.

Dean took his first sip of Butterbeer and his face lit up.

“This stuff is amazing!” he said, immediately taking another sip.

“I told you,” said Seamus grinning widely.

Neville smiled and gave his two cards away. As Dean and Seamus began to trade amongst themselves, Neville became entranced by his plant. He tested the distance at which the plant would begin reaching out for you, which turned out to be about an inch. He spent the rest of his time at the inn petting one of the ivy’s leaves as Dean and Seamus bickered playfully in the background.

Their good mood was washed away as they opened the door to leave and found themselves confronted by a head of short blonde hair.

“Ah, Longbottom. I was hoping to see you,” Malfoy said loudly, moving to lean on the doorframe in an attempt to keep the other three from leaving. “I’m surprised you even came to Hogsmeade, after Sirius Black escaped Azkaban. You know, it’ll probably not be the last break out.”

Seamus pushed roughly past Malfoy, knocking him clear out of the way. Neville and Dean followed close behind to try and get away from _that._

Seamus was fuming the entire way back to the castle, and all three of them remained silent throughout their walk back.

The Halloween feast had been slightly ruined by the encounter. Seamus was still angry, it seemed. All Neville could think of was whether or not Malfoy knew the full truth about his parents.

They walked solemnly toward the Fat Lady’s portrait after dinner, and Neville was distracted from his thoughts by a crowd on the staircase that was a lot more packed and stationary than normal.

Neville heard Ron ask somewhere behind him, “Why isn’t anyone going in?”

Soon after, Percy Weasley’s voice was coming from behind him the way it had at the beginning of the school year.

“Let me through, please,” he said, pushing between Neville and Dean. “What’s the holdup here? You can’t all have forgotten the password – excuse me, I’m Head Boy –”

The crowd slowly went quiet, and Percy’s voice rang out.

“Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius Black has broken into Hogwarts, and the Hufflepuff v. Gryffindor Quidditch match goes horribly awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 5/2/2020

Sirius Black had gotten _into Hogwarts._

It was all Neville could think about that Halloween night, laying down silently in the Great Hall. Dean and Seamus lay close by, whispering between each other, speculating as to how Black had gotten inside _Hogwarts_ of all places.

Neville didn’t sleep a wink; he continued to look at the ceiling. The Milky Way sprawled out above him, and stars twinkled. He was glad for having had Astronomy lessons, for he could now identify some of the constellations there. He traced them with his eyes in an attempt to keep his mind blissfully occupied.

Approaching three in the morning (he kept checking his watch), Professor Dumbledore walked in. Neville closed his eyes so that they wouldn’t reflect the light of the stars and passing ghosts as he listened to the conversation between Dumbledore and Percy. From the conversation he heard, it seemed that there was no sign of Black. Dumbledore had assigned a temporary guardian for the portrait hole, as the Fat Lady was in distress from the attack on her portrait.

“Headmaster?” said Snape’s voice. Neville could see him sweeping into the hall without having to open his eyes. “The whole of the third floor has been searched. He’s not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either.”

“What about the Astronomy tower?” asked Dumbledore. “Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?”

“All searched…”

“Very well, Severus. I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”

“Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?” Snape whispered.

Neville strained to hear what Dumbledore was going to say next. He heard movement a few feet to his right.

“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next.”

“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster,” said Snape, a foreboding tone in his voice. “Just before – ah – the start of term?”

Neville could feel the tension in the conversation from where he lay.

“I do, Severus,” said Dumbledore, an equivalent sense of warning in his voice.

“It seems – almost impossible – that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed –”

Dumbledore cut Snape off. “I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it.”

The matter seemed final. Snape didn’t dare to continue his argument.

Neville wondered who exactly Snape suspected of helping Sirius Black into the castle. It had sounded like he was about to say…

It seemed highly unlikely that the man who had been helping Harry and Neville by giving them extra lessons was the one letting Black into the castle. Neville wondered why Snape would suspect Professor Lupin, of all people.

However he got in, the fact remained that Black was able to get into Hogwarts, and nobody knew exactly how. Once again, a building Neville had thought of as impenetrable became much less safe than he originally thought.

The stars moved imperceptibly throughout the night, until, before he knew it, there were dark reds and oranges tinting the black. After a while of thinking about the conversation between Dumbledore and Snape, his mind returned, once again, to –

_Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Bartemius Crouch Jr._

Everyone spent the next week discussing Sirius Black, and Neville would be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about it either. In their next Herbology class, Neville was continually distracted by Hannah Abbott, who was wildly speculating that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.

Neville listened in as he was repotting a Valerian.

“I’m telling you!” Hannah said. “Hermione, you should know. What if Black could turn into a plant, like an Animagus?”

“It’s _not possible_ to turn into a plant like an Animagus,” said Hermione exasperatedly. “Besides, he would have to move in human form! Kind of defeats the purpose. Not to mention, if he _was_ an Animagus, he would be registered by the Ministry of Magic as one. It’s not exactly something you can do without proper guidance.”

The worst part about the whole incident was the new portrait taking over for the Fat Lady, Sir Cadogan. He changed the password to the common room so often, that Neville was more often than not sitting outside the door, waiting for the next person to come by with a password.

It was during one of these stints in the hallway, his homework in front of him, when Harry showed up, clearly frustrated.

“Hey, Harry,” said Neville. “Do you know the password?”

Harry looked up, startled from his thoughts. “Huh?” he said. “Oh, no, last I remember it was _codswallop._ ”

“WRONG!” yelled Sir Cadogan, startling Neville and Harry both.

Harry sat down next to Neville and sighed, seemingly in frustration.

After six weeks of practicing Defense Against the Dark Arts with Harry, the two had become much more comfortable around each other. Neville began to feel much better around Harry after their second lesson…

_Neville said the incantation for the Trip Jinx and sent the spell flying in Harry’s direction. It had taken him a few tries, but, finally, the spell worked and hit Harry in the chest, causing him to fall over almost comically._

_Neville couldn’t help the snort that came out of him._

_“Oh, yeah?” said Harry._

_He sent the jinx right back at Neville, and he was soon sprawled on top of the pillows set out to break their falls. Neville laughed properly this time._

_They sent the spell back and forth at each other until they were both in stitches. When he opened his eyes Neville could see Professor Lupin grinning broadly at them._

Neville tried to school his smile after remembering the lesson. Clearly, Harry was agitated.

“What’s going on, Harry?” he asked.

“Professor McGonagall tried to get me to stop going to Quidditch practice,” Harry said frustratedly. “Ever since Sirius Black broke in, all the teachers have been walking with me wherever I go, and Percy Weasley has been stalking me.”

“That’s weird. I wonder why?” Neville asked, confused.

“Oh, I guess you don’t know,” Harry said. “Apparently, the reason Sirius Black escaped was to kill me.”

Harry had said it in such a conversational tone that it took several seconds longer than necessary for the words to sink in.

“Seriously?” asked Neville, aghast.

Harry nodded. Neville thought, in retrospect, he had no room to worry about _them_ escaping. Here was Harry, who had a deranged murderer specifically out to get _him_. Neville found himself counting his blessings.

The weather outside got progressively worse as the week before Halloween went by. When Thursday came, Neville was in a trance at the breakfast table, unable to look away from rain that fell furiously but never even reached their heads.

_At least we have lessons with Professor Lupin today…_

Neville, Dean, and Seamus sat across from Harry, Ron, and Hermione at breakfast. This arrangement had become the regular at the Gryffindor table this year.

Neville was startled from his staring at the rain by an unpleasant voice behind him.

“Longbottom, Potter.”

Neville turned around to see none other than Professor Snape. He felt a lurch of anxiety, automatically assuming the worst.

Harry had looked up from his breakfast, clearly confused by the presence of the much-hated Potions teacher. Snape handed Neville two slips of paper

“Professor Lupin instructed me to give these notes to you two,” said Snape succinctly. He soon swept off to the front of the hall, where the teachers sat.

Neville took a look at his note after passing the other to Harry.

_Neville,_

_I’m sorry to say our lesson today will have to be cancelled. I have fallen ill. You can go to Professor McGonagall’s room after D.A.D.A. to continue practicing the spells you have learned so far._

_Terribly sorry for the inconvenience,_

_Professor Lupin_

Neville looked up from his note, slightly concerned. He saw a similar look in Harry’s face. Harry silently passed his note to Ron and Hermione. Neville went ahead and did the same for Dean and Seamus.

When they had all finished reading, the six of them looked amongst each other, equally confused.

Hermione spoke first. “I wonder what he’s come down with?” she asked.

Potions that day was a disaster. Neville was in the midst of creating Confusing Concoction (and failing) when Snape came up to his desk to criticize it.

“Longbottom, I can’t be sure you even read the instructions. What step are you on?”

“Th- the fairy wings, sir,” said Neville quietly.

“It certainly doesn’t look it. It is supposed to be light purple.”

The concoction was almost black.

“I suggest you start over,” said Snape matter-of-factly.

And then Snape quickly and silently swept his wand over Neville’s cauldron and cleaned it of its contents.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. He didn’t expect her to try and help him again, and he didn’t really want her to, anyways.

Neville was slightly bummed as he walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch that day. Professor Lupin had come down with something about a month earlier, but it hadn’t interfered with their extra lessons. Now, Neville didn’t have anything to look forward to.

His day became even more miserable once he walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

_Great. Double Snape._

After the miserable Defense lesson, at the end of which they’d been assigned a _two-roll_ essay on how to recognize werewolves and kill them, Harry and Neville met up to go to Professor McGonagall’s room. As they walked, they could hear the rain continue to pour relentlessly against the castle windows.

“Hello, boys,” McGonagall said as the two walked in. “Professor Lupin informed me of the situation. I’ve cleared a space for you two to practice.”

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall,” said Neville.

Neville and Harry felt a bit awkward as they practiced under the eyes of McGonagall. She appeared to be working on something at her desk, but Neville didn’t fail to notice her glancing toward them every once and a while.

They began by disarming each other ten times, then _blocking_ the disarming charm ten times. By this point, the both of them were able to perform the two spells consistently.

“We need pillows…” said Harry, once they had gotten to the point where they were supposed to practice the Trip Jinx.

Silently, without even looking up, Professor McGonagall waved her wand in their direction and conjured two sets of pillows on the floor for them.

“Thank you,” said Neville. He felt bad for distracting McGonagall.

They practiced what they had learned so far; Trip Jinxes and Hex Deflection, in addition to the Disarming Charm. It took them about an hour to walk through it all.

“Good job today,” said Harry as they finished.

“Thanks, you too” said Neville.

McGonagall vanished the pillows as quickly and silently as she had conjured them.

“Thanks again, Professor,” said Neville, still feeling a bit like they had intruded on her workspace.

“It was no trouble,” she replied almost warmly. “You two ought to be getting back to the common room.”

The next day was the day of the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match, although Neville didn’t realize it until he went to breakfast and was assaulted by violent red and gold outfits everywhere at the Gryffindor table.

Neville honestly didn’t find Quidditch that exciting, especially when he first came to Hogwarts. Neville’s grandmother never enjoyed it, and so Neville never had anyone to get him into the sport. He still went to the House matches, however, to support his fellow Gryffindors. He found himself more and more invested the more matches he went to.

He was honestly surprised that they weren’t postponing the match. The rain outside was pouring even harder than it had been the past few days. One would think they were in the middle of a hurricane.

Once the game started, Neville struggled to watch the match through the grey sheet enveloping the Quidditch field. Even the commentator, Lee Jordan, had very little idea what was going on. There were a few goals made by Gryffindor, all of which had to be reported to Jordan by a player thirty seconds later.

A time-out was blessedly called after thirty minutes or so, and the audience waited for the teams to recollect themselves.

When the game started back up, the lightning began to strike extremely close to the pitch. Neville was now genuinely concerned. He hoped the match would be over soon; he honestly would rather have missed the game now that he was here, soaked to the bone and in danger of being struck by lightning.

“There goes Cedric Diggory!” Jordan yelled. “Must have spotted the Snitch, looks like Harry just noticed –”

An eerie silence swept throughout the crowd, and Neville suddenly felt the cold –

_Neville was looking into his mother’s eyes. The screaming started. It invaded his ears, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get that sound out of his mind. Even when the sound had been cut off by the nurse’s wards, Neville could still hear it ringing in his ears. He desperately hoped it would end._

_He stood there, frozen, staring at his mother. She was thrashing around the bed, as though she were in excruciating pain. She was moving in a way that was almost inhuman. He had to do something…_

“Lucky the ground was so soft.”

“I thought he was dead for sure.”

“But he didn’t even break his glasses.”

Neville felt such a horrible pain in his head, the whispered voices didn’t even register until seconds later.

“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Neville slowly opened his eyes and saw the darkened ceiling of what he knew to be the hospital wing. The pain in his head was beginning to make him feel ill. He slowly and painfully turned his head to the left, where the voices had come from.

There, surrounding the bed next to him, Neville saw the Quidditch team, covered in mud, as well as Hermione and Ron. Dean and Seamus were there as well, closer to Neville than the others. Everyone standing was soaked to the bone. Neville wondered for a moment how he wasn’t wet, as well.

Dean saw Neville’s open eyes and moved closer to his bed.

“Hey, Neville, how do you feel?” asked Dean.

“Head hurts,” said Neville with a croaky voice. “What happened?”

Neville heard Harry ask the same question a few seconds later. He moved his eyes, and saw Harry, who he hadn’t noticed before, in the hospital bed next to him. His memory caught back up to him.

“Dementors,” said Neville, not waiting for the others to answer his question.

“You were standing, you see,” said Seamus, “You started twitching and you fell over. You hit your head pretty bad on the railing.”

Neville hummed in acknowledgement. He was still looking at Harry and the crowd around his bed.

Fred went up to Harry, who was, at this point, curled up with his head between his knees, and shook his shoulder roughly.

“C’mon, Harry, you’ve never missed the Snitch before.”

“There had to be one time you didn’t get it,” said George.

So, Gryffindor had lost the match. Neville returned his attention to Dean, who was looking at Neville with an expression Neville couldn’t understand.

“Neville,” said Dean. “Didn’t you see a dementor before? On the train? Did this happen then, too?”

“Yeah, kind of,” said Neville, not wanting to lie.

“Huh,” said Seamus. “I wonder why…”

Neville had wondered the same thing more than once.

Madam Pomfrey shooed the Quidditch team away from the hospital wing, leaving Ron, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus. Neville tried to listen to what Hermione was saying.

“Dumbledore was really angry,” said Hermione, voice wobbly. “I’ve never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot some silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… He was furious they’d come onto the grounds. We heard him –”

“Then he magicked you onto a stretcher…”

“Yeah,” said Seamus, quietly so Ron could continue to talk to Harry without interruption. “We had no idea what was happening. One second, you fell over, and the next, we see Harry falling out of the sky.”

Neville just nodded. He felt nervous; this meant that everyone was now privy to the fact that both he and Harry were prone to passing out because of dementors. It made him less nervous, though, knowing that he and Harry were in the same boat.

“Alright, well, we’re going to let you rest,” said Dean.

He and Seamus left, and Neville was left to fail at not eavesdropping on Harry, Ron and Hermione.

“I’m really sorry, Harry,” said Hermione in a small voice.

Neville spared a glance over to Harry’s bed. There were a few twigs scattered over his blanket and Harry was staring blankly at them.

“It’s fine,” he said in a hollow voice.

“Look at the bright side, you can get a new broomstick, now,” said Hermione in a feebly positive voice.

Neville was looking at the ceiling once more. He felt bad listening in, so he tried to fill his thoughts with something else. He wished he could have a Sleeping Draught.

Last time he passed out from the dementors, he began having nightmares. They weren’t often, but they were always intense. Those nights he had them, he would wake up in the middle of the night breathing fast and he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. He would just sit there until the others woke up. He would pretend to have had a good night’s sleep, but it showed in his even-more-abysmal-than-normal schoolwork. Neville hadn’t had one of those nights in weeks, now.

He had a feeling that, after passing out once more, the nightmares would return. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

Neville closed his eyes and, noticing he was more tired than he originally thought, slipped into an uneasy sleep.

The next time Neville woke up, Madam Pomfrey was fussing over him, the hospital wing filled with a soft light.

“Good morning, Mr. Longbottom,” she said. “I’m having you and Mr. Potter stay in the hospital wing the rest of the weekend, no arguments.”

Neville didn’t really feel like arguing, so he just nodded. The pain in his head had only slightly subsided. Madam Pomfrey helped him sit up and he looked around.

As Pomfrey said, Harry was still in his bed next to Neville, sitting up as well. He seemed quite occupied by his thoughts.

Neville returned his attention to Madam Pomfrey.

“My head still hurts…” he said.

“Yes, quite sorry about that,” Pomfrey said. “You took a nasty fall, you had a hairline fracture in your skull – I mended it, of course, but there will be residual pain… you should know that, of course.” She must have noticed pain in Neville’s face and quickly said, “Here, take this –”

She handed Neville a vial, the same kind she gave him when he broke his knee. He opened it and swallowed it in one gulp.

“It will take a bit more time for the potion to take full effect, but you should be feeling better already.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Neville. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said, already heading off to another patient in the wing.

Feeling much less like he was going to be ill, Neville looked back over at Harry, who seemed to have exited his trance and was now looking at Neville.

“Hey,” said Harry.

“Hey,” Neville responded, not knowing what else to say.

Harry took the reins. “I guess you passed out, too?”

Neville averted his eyes. “Yeah. Cracked my skull. What about you?”

“I didn’t get hurt, but my broom got destroyed.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward silence. A sound of horrible coughing came from the other end of the wing.

The two sat in uncomfortable silence for most of the day. Harry had a pretty steady stream of visitors, and Dean and Seamus came by to visit Neville for a bit. They played a few rounds of wizard’s chess. Between the visits they tried to make feeble conversation, but it always fizzled out rather quickly.

Neville found himself feeling tired, and he laid down to sleep, his mind blissfully quiet.

_There was screaming._

_It was bright, like a hospital. There was screaming. Coming from a woman._

_He had to help her. But he was trapped. There were bars in front of his face. He held onto them and cried._

He woke with a jolt.

_Where am I?_

It was dark, but there was enough light for Neville to see Harry still next to him.

_Hospital wing._

He sat up, trying to remember what he had just been dreaming, but the details quickly slipped away.

“Hey, Neville?”

Neville jumped so bad he could have hit the ceiling. To say he hadn’t expected Harry to speak would be an understatement.

Neville took a breath and responded. “Yeah, Harry?”

“Do you believe that the Grim is really an omen?”

Neville took a second to think about the rather strange question. Of course, he knew about the Grim. His Gran never believed that it was an omen, as far as Neville knew. He hadn’t really heard much at all about it until Divination.

“Not really… Why?”

“Before I was knocked off my broom, I think – I saw the Grim.”

Neville had no idea what to say. There was a long pause, and then -

“Do you… hear anything?” Harry asked, suddenly switching topics. “When the dementors get near?”

Now, Neville properly hesitated. “Yeah…”

“I think – well, I know – I hear Voldemort murdering my mum.”

Neville thought about that. It was eerily similar to what he himself would hear when the dementors came near. He contemplated telling Harry…

“You know, when the dementors get near me, I –”

Neville paused.

“I hear my mum, too. Screaming.”

“Neville?”

“Yes?”

“What happened to your parents?”

Neville took a deep breath and laid back down. He feared that his voice might fail him.

“After the war ended,” Neville began. “Some Death Eaters named Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Bartemius Crouch Jr., captured my parents and tortured them. They tortured my parents until they didn’t know who they were, or who anyone was. They’re in St. Mungo’s now.”

Neville’s voice had become a whisper.

“Neville, I –“

Harry stopped.

Neville didn’t want apologies. He hated when adults apologized for what happened, like it was somehow their fault. He was already beginning to regret having said anything.

Harry tried again. “I never knew.”

“I mean, there’s no way you could have known.”

Harry didn’t say anything. Neville looked over to Harry’s bed to find the other boy looking back at him, a strange look on his face. It wasn’t pity. It was more like… understanding.

Returning to classes was a bit of a nightmare. Last time Harry and Neville passed out, the only people who knew were in the carriage with them. The word never spread. This time, however, _everyone_ knew.

“Potter! Longbottom! The dementors send their love!”

Draco laughed as he walked past Harry and Neville and did an imitation of someone falling over dramatically.

Their next Defense Against the Dark Arts class was thankfully void of Snape. Professor Lupin had returned, though he looked pretty awful. As though he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

At the end of the class, Neville and Harry once again stayed behind to continue their extra lessons.

“Good afternoon, boys. How was practice last week?”

“Good,” said Harry.

“I heard about the match,” said Lupin, “I hope you two are feeling better. And I’m sorry about your broomstick, Harry. Is there any chance of fixing it?”

“No,” said Harry. “The tree smashed it to bits.”

Lupin sighed.

“They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.”

“I guess you heard about the dementors too, then?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I did. I don’t think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time… furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds… I suppose they were the reason the both of you were in the hospital wing this weekend?”

“Yes,” said Harry. He paused before –

“ _Why?_ Why do they affect us that way?”

Neville was glad Harry was the one who brought it up. He had a feeling that Lupin would have a proper answer, but he was too nervous to ask.

“Look at me, both of you,” said Lupin, a fierce look in his eyes. “You are _not_ weak. The dementors affect you two worse than the others because there are horrors in your pasts that the others don’t have.”

Harry and Neville looked at each other, and quickly looked away.

“Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can’t see them. Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself… soul-less and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst to happen to _either_ of you is enough to make anyone knock out. Neither of you have anything to be ashamed of.”

Neville’s throat felt tight. He looked around the room, everywhere except Lupin or Harry.

“Professor,” Harry said, voice a bit strained. “ _You_ were able to make the dementor on the train go away.”

“Yes,” said Professor Lupin. “The Patronus Charm. It can ward off dementors, amongst other things. It’s a highly advanced spell – “

“I would like to learn it,” said Harry at once. “Could you teach us?”

Neville felt similarly. Professor Lupin looked at their faces, noticing the eagerness in both of their eyes

“Alright, then,” he finally said. “But it’ll have to wait until next term. I’m afraid our lessons will have to cease until then as well. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time for Neville...

Without the extra Defense lessons to look forward to, Neville found he was almost bored with his time at Hogwarts. Professor Lupin still let them practice in his room, but he was always holed up in his office getting all his work done before the end of term.

However, there was something coming up that he wasn’t at all looking forward to.

A few days after learning about his parents’ fate, Neville had asked his grandmother what day _it_ had happened and regretted it ever since. It was December 1st, the day most people associate with the beginning of Christmas. All around the castle, teacher and staff were busying themselves with Christmas decorations of all shapes and sizes. Neville had passed the Great Hall that day as Hagrid was lugging two gigantic Christmas trees over his shoulders.

The day was just a haze of misery he wouldn’t be able to recall even a day later. He couldn’t eat breakfast. Or lunch. He finally gave in at dinner, his stomach positively aching. Throughout his classes, he paid very little attention, taking to absently doodling in the margins of his notes.

Dean and Seamus look spent the entire day looking at each other and then at him, concern written all over their faces. He felt an intervention coming. Last time they looked like this the discussion was temporarily postponed by Sirius Black getting in Hogwarts. Neville secretly hoped something else dramatic would happen and distract them.

With his luck, however, the evening went smoothly. Neville went straight up to his bed when dinner ended. At the very least, he wanted for this to take place around as few people as possible

The door opened and Dean’s head popped out.

“Neville?”

“Hey,” Neville replied, resigned and looking everywhere but the door.

“What’s going on?”

Neville didn’t reply.

“You know, you’ve been acting weird this term.”

Neville thought of his parents, of the dementor on the train, his lessons with Harry. There were a lot of things that had changed since he learned the truth of his parents. He laid down and looked at the canopy of his bed.

“Where’s Seamus?” he asked, delaying the inevitable. “He should hear this too.”

Dean huffed. “We agreed that I’m the best at talking to people who are… distressed.”

Neville resented that diagnosis. He wasn’t _distressed_. Maybe _unhappy_. Possibly _depressed._

Dean opened the door further to let Seamus in.

“Hey,” he said with faux casualty. Neville had a feeling he was a lot more uneasy than he was letting on.

The two sat down on Dean’s bed, which was just next to Neville’s. He sat up and decided to just dive into it.

“You know how… how my parents are in St. Mungo’s?”

“Yeah,” the two said simultaneously.

“Well, my gran told me what happened to them over the summer…”

As Neville explained the whole story, his friends’ faces grew slowly more and more horrified.

There was a long pause, and then Seamus spoke.

“You mean, on this day? Twelve years ago? They…?”

Neville nodded, though his head was mostly pointed to the ground.

Ron and Harry chose that moment to walk into the room.

There was awkward shuffling from Dean, Seamus, and Neville, and they tried fruitlessly to look as though they hadn’t been talking about something so horrendous.

All the boys of the third-year dormitory stayed silent the rest of the night, though Ron kept shooting confused looks at the people around him. Harry sent an understanding look to Neville.

Neville remembered the minutes just before he and Harry had been discharged from the hospital wing.

_“Hey, Harry?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Could you, uh, not tell anyone about – well, you know?”_

_“Sure, no problem. Have you told Dean and Seamus?”_

_“Ah, no, there hasn’t been a good time to tell them…”_

Neville looked back at Harry and nodded, hoping that would be enough.

With Christmas so near, students were already packing up and talking about their plans for the break.

“I’m staying at the castle,” said Ron at breakfast a couple of weeks before Christmas.

Harry looked down at his food.

“I’m staying at here, too,” said Hermione. “What about you three?” she asked, nodding toward Neville, Dean, and Seamus.

“Home.”

“Staying home.”

“Going home.”

“That’s cool,” said Ron awkwardly. Harry continued to look down and started picking at his food.

There was another Hogsmeade weekend the day before the train was scheduled to take off. It was a bright snowy day, and everyone was wearing fluffy coats over their robes. Teachers and students alike were flooding the stores buying Christmas and Hanukkah gifts.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville were carrying bags full of candy and prank paraphernalia as they walked to the Three Broomsticks. They entered, letting a flurry of snow through the door, and they heard a great roar coming from the other side of the room.

“I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN’ TRAITOR!”

The three turned to see the source of the racket, Hagrid. He was sitting at a table with Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Cornelius Fudge. Madam Rosemerta was standing next to the table facing away from the door. Professor McGonagall was shushing Hagrid, as everyone in the Inn was looking at their table.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville looked at each other, curious about what caused Hagrid to get so angry. Dean and Neville agreed to grab an open table near the conversation while Seamus ordered drinks.

As they listened, looking at each other in disbelief, Neville noticed in front of him that Hermione and Ron were hiding behind a conveniently placed Christmas tree. The two were clearly listening in on the conversation as well, judging by their shocked pale faces. When the conversation ended and the teachers had left, Neville looked at them again only to find they were looking under the table in unison.

_Odd…_

When they returned to the castle and sat down for dinner, the mood was still a bit grim. They were separately mulling on the details they’d heard in the bar. Neville continued his fascination with the ceiling; it had started to snow as they ate.

After dinner, Neville went straight up the stairs to get ready for bed, not really wanting to be around people.

Neville opened the door. The hangings around Harry’s bed were drawn, which wasn’t typical. He hadn’t noticed Harry go up to the dorm.

“Harry?”

No response.

He shrugged and started to get ready for bed.

As he was pulling on his pajamas, Harry’s curtains moved. Neville looked at him. Harry had a book, full of pictures by the look of it, in his lap. Harry had a strange look in his eye.

“He was their friend,” Harry said, with a voice quieter than expected

“Huh?” said Neville, so quiet it sounded more like a huff of air.

“Sirius Black. He was their friend. And he sold them out to Voldemort.”

Neville stared.

“HE WAS THEIR FRIEND!”

Neville jumped, though he should have expected it.

“The dementors don’t affect him! How is that possible? He doesn’t hear my mum getting murdered when they get near! He doesn’t hear _anything!_ ”

Neville continued to look at Harry without speaking, knowing that an attempt to placate Harry would be a mistake.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Neville paused at that. He knew if there was a time to speak, it would be now.

“You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.

“I do,” Harry said flatly. “And why don’t you mind your own damn business anyways.”

Neville shut up, suddenly feeling his throat close.

_Always. Someone gets aggressive, and I break down. What a strong person I am._

He got into bed but thought for a minute before he shut his curtains all the way.

He put his eyes back on Harry and waited for the other to look back at him.

When he finally looked back, Neville said the only thing he could think to say.

“I’m sorry.”

As soon as he said it, he closed the curtains all the way. He heard Harry do the same a minute after. Neville got comfortable, knowing he was in for a night of feeling horrible. He and Harry had just started becoming friends, and now he felt he had ruined it somehow.

The door opened.

“Harry?”

It was Ron. Harry said nothing.

Neville tried to sleep, but he still had Harry’s words in his head. He knew, rationally, that Harry was just angry, and the anger wasn’t truly directed at him. But it still hurt.

“You know, I’ve always wanted a horn from the Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” said Luna Lovegood, sitting in the corner of their compartment like it was what they did every year.

When Dean, Seamus, and Neville boarded the train together and looked for an empty compartment, they turned up unsuccessful. In the end, the emptiest compartment they could find contained a small girl with almost-white hair holding a magazine that said _The Quibbler_ on the front.

The three had no idea what to make of her. Neville, although he was surprised at first by her forthright demeanor, took to her personality quickly. He enjoyed listening to her, the same way he liked to listen to Dean and Seamus talking about football. She didn’t speak much later though, choosing, like Neville, to listen to Dean and Seamus’s conversation.

There were snow flurries blowing outside the window. They moved past fields and houses and forests. Neville wondered if anyone paid attention to the red train that passed by at the beginnings and ends of school terms. He wondered if there were young witches and wizards out in those fields or forests or in those houses, if their parents pointed out the train to them and said, “You’ll be on that train in a few years.”

“Hey,” said Neville as he walked up to his grandmother on Platform 9 3/4. He tensed up as she hugged him.

Neville let go and smiled weakly at his friends.

“Dean, Seamus, I guess I’ll see you in two weeks,” Neville said awkwardly.

Dean patted him on the back, then went past the 9 ¾ barrier to meet his mother. Seamus went to his parents toward the back wall of the station.

Neville had told his grandmother by owl about the extra lessons, and so she took this one-on-one time over the break to grill him about the teachings of Professor Lupin.

“Very good, Neville,” she said, after he described the lessons. “This professor sounds like the real deal.”

“He’s brilliant,” said Neville trying to not feel incredibly happy at the approval of his grandmother. “At the beginning of next term, we’ll be learning the… Patronus Charm? For getting rid of dementors…”

“Really?” she said, almost sounding surprised. “It’s a difficult spell, but I’m sure you’ll be able to do it.”

Neville knew this declaration not to be one of confidence in him, but rather an expectation of him. He knew full well what she was doing; what pressured him to go to Professor Lupin in the first place was his grandmother saying things like this.

He knew what she was doing, but that didn’t lessen the anxiety he now felt at the thought of the upcoming Patronus lessons.

Already knowing the answer, but desperate to change the subject, Neville asked, “So, when are we going to St. Mungo’s?”

“Christmas Day,” she said, “and the Saturday before you go back.”

Every Christmas Break since he started Hogwarts, they always went on Christmas Day, and again just before he left for school.

Before going to Hogwarts, Neville was brought to the Janus Thickey ward at least once every two weeks. Those visits stuck out in his mind a lot. The first year he had gone to Hogwarts, he had a four-month break in visits to St. Mungo’s. The next visit brought a wave of emotional pain. Something about the smell, something about leaving for a while and coming back, triggered a primal response in his brain.

At least, now, he had a week until he had to go to St. Mungo’s. He had to prepare in advance after what happened last time…

Living with Gran wasn’t always easy. She was very fussy and loved a very clean house. However, it was all Neville knew, besides living at Hogwarts.

They lived at the Longbottom family mansion, which solely belonged to Gran at the moment. He would eventually own it, his gran always reminded him of that. It was a very beautiful, very old brick mansion handed down the generations, located about 50 miles north of London. He was glad at the thought of owning it one day. Neville had spent many years of his life exploring the property; the small lawn, the acres of gardens, the cemetery near the back. Exploring out there was most of the reason why he loved and excelled at Herbology. The gardens were a very early introduction to the subject for him.

While he waited for Christmas day to come along, Neville walked the gardens once again. Neville absolutely loved the gardens, with its greenhouses and miniature forests and vegetable beds. He would spend all his time there if he could. His grandmother always kept them in very good condition, maintaining them year-round. He knew just about every plant in there.

There was dittany, which he remembered eating whenever he got a scrape or bruise. There were Mandrakes, Wiggentrees, bubotubers, gillyweed, Mimbulus mimbletonia. He had memorized all of them, how they looked, and what they were used for by the age of 10.

As Christmas grew closer, Neville spent more and more time there, avoiding his grandmother. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, she was just a lot to handle sometimes. Especially with Sirius Black out of prison, it was like she couldn’t help but talk about it, and Neville’s parents, and the people who put them in that hospital. He found that he’d rather just not think about it.

On Christmas morning, Neville woke to a pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He felt warmth in his chest, though Christmas hasn’t always been great. He still felt excited at the sight of presents. He didn’t want to let the visit to the hospital later that day ruin the feeling.

At the top of the pile were two presents from his grandmother: _Defensive Spells and How to Use Them_ by Galatea Merrythought, and a set of Dark Detectors. In the set was a Foe-Glass, a Secrecy Sensor, and a Sneakoscope.

Next in the pile was a box of sweets, both Muggle and magic, from Seamus. Dean gave him a To-Do List journal that alerted you when you needed to do something.

Harry, he was surprised to see, had given him a gift as well. It wasn’t much, just another Sneakoscope. Neville supposed you couldn’t be too careful. A note was attached, one that simply said “Sorry.”

Neville supposed he was apologizing for the outburst the night before he left Hogwarts. Neville didn’t say goodbye to Harry before leaving, since the other boy was still asleep.

Neville smiled, set the note down, grabbed the Merrythought book and walked out of his room to give his grandmother a hug.

“Thank you for the presents, Gran,” he said.

“Of course, boy,” said Gran. “I couldn’t very well let you get by without any Dark Detectors.”

Neville sat down at the table and set the book out in front of him.

_Disarming, Shielding, Impediment Jinx…_

The way the book was laid out, Neville couldn’t help but notice that Professor Lupin was taking pages out of Merrythought’s book for their lessons.

Looking through the book helped Neville take his mind off the coming day…

At noon, they left for St. Mungo’s. Dressed as Muggles, they took the bus through London to a block near the store they were looking for: Purge and Dowse Ltd. Neville was intimately familiar with the façade; he didn’t even blink when his grandmother whispered to the dummy in the window “Frank and Alice Longbottom.”

Gran took his hand, like she always did, and they stepped together through the glass. Neville kept his sight focused right in front of him, not looking at the people waiting with a colorful array of afflictions. Mostly, he didn’t want anyone to recognize him. Gran didn’t speak to the front desk, simply waved and moved straight to the door for the staircase.

They passed portrait after portrait in the stairwell before reaching the fourth floor. The nurses were all dressed in lime green robes and decorated with all manner of holiday decoration. There were snowflakes hanging from the ceiling and tinsel strung all over.

Gilderoy Lockhart was still in the Janus Thickey ward, occupying the bed closest to the door. There were pictures posted above his bed with childlike writing all over them. The former professor didn’t say anything, engrossed in writing all over another picture. Surprisingly, there was only one other bed filled, a man completely passed out. There were flowers and cards surrounding his bed.

And, of course, there was his parents. The unmistakable flowery curtains were drawn around their beds. Neville would never forget them, as he has had many, many dreams that took place here, all throughout his life.

They greeted the nurse, Tillie, once again. Neville was surprised she was still working there, he was so used to the frequent rotation.

Neville’s heartbeat picked up with every step he took toward the curtains. He didn’t feel like this the last time he came here, but he also hadn’t yet known his mother was going to scream her head off.

He hadn’t yet known the truth about how she came to be there.

His grandmother pulled the curtains back. Neville barely flinched, a primal part of him expecting his mother to start yelling again once he entered. She remained quiet, however, and so did father. They hadn’t changed a bit since last time. They were both chewing gum, and mother was playing absentmindedly with the paper wrapper. Mom was humming a tune that Neville recognized, but couldn’t put a name to.

Neville took care to keep his eyes trained on anything but their eyes. He looked at the stuffed animal pile, which looked somehow bigger than last time. The walls were decorated with family pictures; Neville as a child, wedding pictures, honeymoon pictures, friends of theirs, some Neville has met and some he hasn’t.

His mother moved, and Gran was immediately at her side. Mother was sat still for a moment, helped up by Gran. She got out of the bed, came up to Neville, and handed him the two gum wrappers.

“Thank you,” he all but whispered, eyes still trained on anything but her face.

She slowly shuffled back to the bed but didn’t sit down she stood and looked at the newspaper next to her table. Neville knew she liked newspaper. Of course, she didn’t really seem to read it or comprehend it, but she liked looking at them, so the nurses always gave her some.

Neville’s dad, usually less responsive than mother, finally got out of bed and tried to take the newspaper away from her.

“Honey,” Gran said gently. “You’ve got your own right here.”

She picked up the identical newspaper sitting on the desk between their beds and placed it on his hands. He stopped pulling at mom’s paper and silently took the new one.

Neville looked at this exchange with a dull ache in his throat. He wasn’t quite at the point of tears, but he knew they would come later. They always did.

Gran moved to kiss each of Neville’s parents on the forehead. Neville did the same, and they quietly left, holding each other’s hands tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to make a note:  
> I based the behavior of Frank and Alice Longbottom NOT on documented instances of torture until insanity, but on my personal experiences with FTD. I did this, for the most part, because the only time JK Rowling ever described their behavior, it majorly hit close to home for me especially having a loved one with FTD. I figured, since Rowling gave me so little to work with, and since what she did give reminded me so much of people with bvFTD and Alzheimer's, particularly when they're on medication, I would go that route instead. I hope that makes sense.
> 
> If you want to learn more about FTD, go here: www.theaftd.org


	6. Another Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville returns to Hogwarts after winter break and a lot of drama happened that he is just now finding out about...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing I decided there was enough material to add another chapter. So now its 8 chapters.  
> Also Content warning: Panic attack

Before he boarded the train for Hogwarts at the end of winter break, Gran held him back and handed him a framed picture. The picture was black and white, and his parents were stood smiling in front of their brand-new house. He imagined the house being a light blue. His father was wearing dark robes, and his mother was wearing a dress with flowers all over it, which he assumed was yellow. His mother was holding the tiny version of him, who was squirming around in her arms. She kept on looking down at him and giggling. His father was doing the same, occasionally looking up at Neville’s mother with a loving look.

Neville remembered the last visit he made to the Janus Thickey ward, and felt a hollow ache in his chest. It was still baffling that these people who loved each other and loved _him_ , the people looking out at him from the picture, were turned into the shells of humans they were today.

_Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Bartemius Crouch Jr._

He stared at the picture all the way back to Hogwarts, refusing to take note of the offhand glances Seamus and Dean sent toward him.

When he returned to school, grateful to have something to think about other than that picture, he took note of the dismal mood Harry, Ron and Hermione were in.

“Harry had an actual _Firebolt!”_ said Ron at their first breakfast back. “And Hermione went and blabbed to Professor McGonagall and they’re stripping it. _Stripping it!_ ”

Hermione herself was nowhere to be found at breakfast, but during their first class of the term, she had her head down solemnly. Ron was resolutely ignoring her, and Harry seemed a bit awkward in the middle.

On Tuesday their first week back, Neville was held back by Professor McGonagall for his particularly dismal performance in class. He was just about to start running down the hall to his next class, when he heard a strange muffled noise down the hallway. Torn between going to see what it was and running to class, he found himself sneaking down the hall toward the sound anyways.

Neville got to a point where he could hear the sounds like they were only a few feet away. It was crying, he could tell now. But there were no corners, no places for someone to hide that he could see. He moved up and down and across the hallway until he found a hanging curtain on the wall where he could hear the noise closest. He pulled it back.

In an alcove hiding behind the curtain was Hermione, sitting on the ground with her legs scrunched up to her torso. She was clearly the source of the crying, but she had quickly moved to look presentable at the sound of the curtain moving.

“Neville, what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I heard… crying,” responded Neville nervously. He felt bad for intruding.

“Oh… well I…”

“Do you need anything?” Neville found himself asking.

“Um… could you sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure.”

Neville was curious as to why Hermione, the best student in the school, was sitting in an alcove crying during classes.

He gathered the courage to ask her just that.

“Oh… I have a free period right now…”

She hadn’t explained why she was crying, but Neville decided to leave it, not wanting to upset her by pressing the subject.

They sat quietly, Hermione sniffling a bit every few seconds or so.

“Neville,” Hermione started after a few minutes, “if your friends were doing something dangerous and you wanted to stop them, but you knew they’d get angry if you stopped them, would you do it anyways?”

Neville whether or not to answer honestly. The truth was, he could be a bit of a pushover. Although in their first year, he did try to stop Harry, Ron, and Hermione from going into the forbidden corridor at the end of the year. He settled on an answer.

“Yes.”

“If it was the right thing to do, then why do I feel so miserable anyways?” said Hermione.

She put her head back down, and she was crying once again. Neville was having an increasingly hard time finding an answer. In the end, he waited so long to answer that he figured it would be too awkward to try.

“Neville?” said Hermione, face surfacing once more.

“Yes?”

“Would you want to join me at lunch in Hagrid’s hut?”

Neville figured he didn’t have much to lose.

The second after he walked into Hagrid’s hut, he could tell the half-giant knew what happened to Neville’s parents.

Of all the people Neville met who also had previous knowledge of his parents’ situation, there were a few types. There were the ones who were overbearing and sentimental; usually older women, mothers, those kinds of people, who just wanted to touch him and hug him and treated him like he was made of glass. Then there were those who ignored him entirely; these tended to be younger people who felt awkward around this kid who had a horrific past (but isn’t famous like Harry Potter). And then there were the people who were cool, a select few from many age ranges who knew that his past didn’t define him.

Unfortunately, Hagrid fell into the first category. Neville figured since the man was so empathetic toward animals, he was bound to be empathetic toward other people as well.

“I knew your parents… O’ course I was already gamekeeper when they came to school here, very bright, the both of ‘em…”

Neville knew Hermione didn’t know what happened, and he intended it to stay that way. At least, for a while. As Hagrid spoke, she gave him a sidelong glance but said nothing.

“Well, I’m glad Hermione here has a friend, at leas’,” said Hagrid, after taking a sip of tea. “Harry and Ron seem to ‘ve bin holdin’ a grudge agains’ her…”

Hermione looked down. Neville took note.

“Well, it was kind of an accident, running into her,” he said, anxiety boiling in him for seemingly no reason. “But I’m glad it happened…”

Neville noticed the hippogriff from the beginning of the year, the one that hurt Malfoy, inside the hut. He wondered why such a large creature would be held inside like that.

“Hermione here has bin helpin’ me with Buckbeak,” said Hagrid, having noticed Neville’s line of sight and sounding tearful. “With his case…”

Hermione leaned over to Neville. “Buckbeak might be sentenced to death…” she whispered.

“Oh,” said Neville. “I’m sorry to hear that,”

Hagrid was now dabbing a dirty handkerchief against his face.

“I jus’ hope it turns out alrigh’,” he said, sniffling.

Finally, it was time to learn the Patronus Charm. Harry and Neville stayed in Professor Lupin’s classroom after class on Thursday. Neville felt extremely nervous as Lupin turned and waved his wand, causing all the other desks to move to the edges of the room, some stacked on top of each other. He waved his wand twice more and conjured two dummies, dressed in black cloaks like dementors.

“Okay, boys,” started Professor Lupin. “We are going to pretend that these dummies are dementors. I thought of possibly using a boggart, but, of course, Neville’s boggart is not a dementor.”

Neville looked askance.

“So…” Lupin brought his wand out and motioned for Harry and Neville to do the same. “The spell I am going to try to teach you is highly advanced magic – well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. As I said before Christmas, it is called the Patronus Charm.”

Neville tried very hard not to look nervous.

“How does it work?” asked Harry.

“Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus,” said Lupin. “which is a kind of anti-dementor – a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor.”

He then spoke the words, “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” and the same silver stuff that came out of his wand on the train, came out of the wand once more. It was a great big ball, completely indistinguishable, but it was, for lack of a better word, beautiful.

“The Patronus is a kind of positive force,” Lupin continued, “a projection of the very things dementor feeds upon – hope, happiness, the desire to survive – but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can’t hurt it. But I must warn the both of you that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it.”

Harry seemed to ignore this warning, opting to ask, “Does it… always look like a…?”

“Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it, but it is typically an animal.”

“And how do you conjure it?” asked Harry.

“With an incantation which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.”

Neville was actually shaking at this point, though he tried very hard to not show it. He tried frantically to think of _something_ happy, when he remembered the feeling of being the person who gave Gryffindor enough points to break the House Cup tied between Gryffindor and Slytherin. It was the happiest memory he could think of.

“Right,” said Harry next to him.

“The incantation is this – _expecto patronum_ ,” said Professor Lupin.

Neville and Harry both mumbled the incantation under their breaths.

“Now, both of you, concentrate on your memory, raise your wands, and say _expecto patronum._ ”

Neville moved his mind back to the memory from his first year at Hogwarts. He held his wand out, said the incantation, and silver wisps came out of his wand. Harry’s wand let out silver wisps as well, but Neville’s gave off more. He tried and failed to not feel too proud or confident.

“Great start, both of you,” said Lupin, “but I think you both might need something happier, it doesn’t seem to be strong enough…”

Neville felt his good mood drop. It had been effort enough to find that one memory. He remembered that just after the first year Gryffindor win, his grandmother had expressed how proud she was of him for earning the deciding points. Neville had possibly felt even better about that than the approval of his peers.

He moved his mind to that memory, and once again Lupin prompted them to raise their wands against the dummy-dementors.

“ _Expecto patronum,_ ” said both Harry and Neville.

This time, a larger amount of silver stuff came out of the wands. It almost began to take the form of a circular shield. Neville’s legs became weak. He looked over at Harry and saw a similar circle in front of him.

“Excellent!” exclaimed Lupin. “This is a great start. I couldn’t tell what either of them were, but that’s _more_ than exceptional at this point.”

Lupin looked closely at the both of them. Neville was shaking even harder than before, and Harry didn’t look so well either.

“I think that was quite enough. We can continue practicing next week. We can also get back to our other spells, I’m thinking about the Impediment Jinx…”

February came, and another Gryffindor Quidditch match was on the horizon. Seamus and Dean began discussing logistics more often as they did their homework in the common room.

In their extra lessons with Lupin, the Patronus Charm became more and more difficult for Neville as he tried different happy memories. So far, the best one was still the one he had produced from thinking about his grandmother’s pride in him after first year. Trying to use the memory once more, however, produced a much weaker Patronus.

Harry wasn’t doing so well either. As the weeks went by Neville noticed that Harry was getting more and more frustrated with the spell.

“I need it in case the dementors come for the Quidditch pitch again. I can’t pass out!”

“Well,” said Neville, “what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know!” yelled Harry, though he quickly backed down. “Sorry, I’m just frustrated.”

“Professor Lupin said it was beyond OWLs,” said Neville placatingly. “All things considered you’re doing a great job.”

“It doesn’t feel like it though…”

Neville tried not to feel hurt by Harry’s implication. If _Harry_ was doing terribly, what does that make _Neville?_

One Friday afternoon, Neville was trying to enter the Gryffindor common room, and failing.

“I give up!” he said, moving to sit down by the door once again. He had learned at this point to not get too settled in when this happened. Sometimes it took an hour for someone to come with the password, or to open the door from inside. Sometimes it took all of thirty seconds.

He thought of something.

“Hey, Sir Cadogan?”

“What do _you_ want, scallywag?” said the portrait, clearly enjoying himself.

“Could you tell me what this next week’s passwords will be?”

“NEVER!” Sir Cadogan yelled, making Neville jump.

“P-please?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that he might say yes.

“Oh… fine,” he said, surprising Neville even more than when he yelled. He pulled out a piece of paper and quill to write.

“ _Persnickety_ on Sunday, _flibbertigibbet_ on Monday…”

_This is_ not _happening, please, let this_ NOT _be happening -_

Neville felt like an idiot for nearly crying while trying to get into the common room.

“Please! I-I-I wrote them down! But I must’ve dropped them somewhere!

“A likely tale!” roared Sir Cadogan. Neville _hated_ when people yelled at him. He was already on the edge of breaking down as is. His breath began to quicken and he was a _word_ away from crying

“Good even, my fine young yeomen!” said Sir Cadogan suddenly. Neville turned to see Harry and Ron. “Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!”

“Oh, shut up,” said Ron as he and Harry had walked up to the portrait.

Neville didn’t say a word, just listened to his breathing get louder and faster.

“Are you okay?” said Harry.

Neville shook his head very slightly, unable to do anything else.

Harry’s brow furrowed, and then said to Sir Cadogan, “Oddsbodikins.”

Sir Cadogan looked extremely disappointed as he swung the frame out to let the three Gryffindor boys in. Neville didn’t notice that Harry had been holding a broom, nor the whispers of “Firebolt” rippling throughout the crowded common room. All he noticed was an influx of people that he _needed_ to get away from.

He broke away and practically _ran_ to the dormitories.

_I can’t believe I lost the passwords I wrote down at the beginning of the week…_

Neville threw his things next to the bed, closed his curtains, and let himself go. He put his face in his hands, his brain unable to handle even the smallest amount of light. His breathing was practically roaring in his ears, his throat ached, and his eyes had become veritable waterfalls in the matter of seconds.

The door opened, and Neville tried as hard as he could to be silent. It didn’t help that the roaring in his ears prevented him from being able to tell how loud he was. Knowing that the kid who entered could probably hear him only made Neville feel worse. And then -

“ _AAAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!_ ”

There was the sound of sheets being pulled off one of the beds and the door opened and closed again.

That was it for Neville. He could hardly breath at this point and his heart was beating wildly. He curled up on his side, covering his ears now instead of his eyes. His eyes were shut as far as he could, and he _couldn’t stop crying._

There was muffled sound from downstairs for a few minutes. Neville heard the door open and close once more, and, at this point, he barely cared that whoever walked in could hear him. He just hoped that nobody would bother him.

Ten minutes passed, although it felt like an hour, and Neville’s breathing had returned to normal. However, he definitely did _not_ want to exit his bed and come face to face with whoever was in the room. He simply stared at the top of his four-poster until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

The next week, Neville once again heard the sound of crying as he left Transfiguration. This time, he had a pretty good idea of who it was and also where to find them. Neville thought of the last time he himself had cried and wondered if Hermione might not want company. He thought better of it though; Hermione seemed to think she didn’t have any friends right now. She likely needed company.

“Hermione?” he asked after pulling the curtains back.

Hermione simply gestured for him to come over. Neville sat down in front of her, back against the opposite wall.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.

“I’m just so tired,” she said miserably, muffled by her arms in front of her face.

Neville continued to sit with Hermione silently until she raised her head to reveal her blotchy face. She muttered a spell with her wand pointed to her face and, all the sudden, her face was clear.

_Wish I had that spell a few days ago…_

“It’s almost lunch,” said Hermione, her voice still thick from crying. “Would you like to walk with me to Hagrid’s?”

Neville agreed, hoping that this meeting would be less awkward than the last.


	7. The Passwords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville gets in trouble for leaving the common room passwords somewhere in the castle :(

The upcoming weekend was the highly anticipated Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw Quidditch game It was anticipated not only for the sake of Quidditch, but also due to the fact that Harry now had the best broom in the wizarding world, a Firebolt, as a 13-year-old Seeker.

Neville once again attended the game with Dean and Seamus. As they walked to the pitch that day, Neville’s two friends were walking quickly in front of him theorizing how the match would go, while Neville lagged behind.

The match itself was mildly interesting, at least as interesting as he had ever found Quidditch. He _did_ marvel at how much faster Harry’s broom was than anyone else’s, how he glided up and down trying to shake off Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker.

Maybe thirty minutes into the game, dove, seemingly for the Snitch with Chang hot on his tail. In a motion Neville nearly couldn’t follow, Harry drew his wand out from his robes and was pointing it at…

Only then did Neville take note of the three dark cloaked figures on the Quidditch pitch. He could tell that they certainly weren’t dementors, but people trying to look like dementors.

_Malfoy…_

Of course, at his speed, Harry probably couldn’t tell the difference between the figures on the pitch and real dementors. And so, white silvery mass suddenly came out of Harry’s wand, much like it did in Patronus lessons. Only this time, it wasn’t just a circular shield.

It was a stag, now clear as day, barreling toward the three figures, who quickly ran away. Harry had just produced a beautiful, fully corporeal Patronus on the spot, in the middle of a Quidditch game.

In the midst of Cho’s distraction by the Patronus, which was still chasing toward the three figures, Harry easily grabbed the Snitch.

Neville really didn’t want to deal with the fact that Harry had performed the Patronus Charm perfectly, and so elected to remain on the sidelines of the after-party. As he sat down next to Hermione, Neville was baffled to see she was frantically reading _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_ in the midst of the commotion.

“Hermione, what are you doing?”

“I need to read this by Monday,” she told Neville as he sat down near her.

Neville was about to apologize for intruding, but Hermione beat him to it.

“You can stay, though. I actually appreciate it,” she said, glancing up at the festivities, and then back down.

Neville spent the next few minutes sat next to Hermione, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was reading about. Apparently, it was Muggle office work. Neville felt grateful for not choosing Muggle Studies; not that he had thought about it in the first place.

When Hermione got to the subsection about “Food-Based Jobs”, Harry approached the table, causing Hermione to immediately tense up. Neville felt bad for her; Hermione was very clearly stressed, and it seemed that Harry wasn’t trying very hard to be supportive. Ron, it seemed, was trying his utmost to be the _opposite_ of supportive.

“Did you even come to the match?” was the first thing out of Harry’s mouth. Clearly the boy didn’t understand how to talk to someone who’s distressed.

“Of course I did,” said Hermione, her voice much more high-pitched than it had been before. “And I’m very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday.”

“Come on, Hermione,” Harry said with an air of sympathy, “come and have some food.”

“I can’t, Harry. I’ve still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!” Hermione definitely sounded stressed, almost hysterical. “Anyway…” she glanced over at Ron. “ _He_ doesn’t want me to join in.”

At the same moment, Ron said loudly, “If Scabbers hadn’t just been _eaten_ , he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them- “

Hermione burst into tears. Neville, startled by the sudden outburst, didn’t try to stop her as she tucked her book under her arm and ran up the staircase toward the girl’s dormitory.

At this point in their acquaintance, Neville had a very diminished view of Ron as a person. The boy didn’t treat his friends very well and had a hard time letting go of a grudge.

Neville decided he should go make sure she was okay. He knew, from Hermione, in fact, that he could go up to the girls’ dormitories as long as the stairwell’s magic sensed he had no bad intentions. So, he walked up the stairs after her, glancing at Harry on the way. Harry was shooting him a strange look.

Neville walked up to the door he knew belonged to third-years. He stood at the door worriedly, second guessing his decision before finally deciding to knock.

“Wh- Who is it?” said Hermione, muffled by the door and shaky from crying.

“Neville,” he said, hopefully loud enough for her to hear.

There was a long pause before –

“Come in,” she said, a waver in her voice.

Neville entered. Somehow, he was surprised that the dorm was laid out the exact same as the boys’ dorm. The only difference was the decorations that each student had put up. Another girl, Parvati Patil, was in the room with Hermione. She awkwardly waved at him from her bed and drew her curtains to give the two a semblance of privacy. Neville looked at Hermione, who had a blotchy face once again.

“Hermione,” he started, unsure of himself. “Are you okay?”

“No…” she said, looking at him.

“Do you need anything?”

A pause.

“A hug?”

Neville spread his arms and Hermione jumped into them. It was nice; Neville hardly ever got hugs, and usually they made him uncomfortable. But for some reason, Hermione didn’t feel uncomfortable. They sat and Hermione began to cry again, wetting his shoulder. He didn’t mind getting wet much, but he was already feeling something well up in his throat. He always had an empathetic response to crying, but he tried for Hermione’s sake to not let her notice the few tears escaping his eyes.

In the wee small hours of the morning, Neville woke up from a nightmare. He didn’t really want to go back to sleep, and he wouldn’t be able to even if he wanted to. He sat up a little to grab the picture of his parents from his bedside drawer when there was a noise.

The noise of a door opening.

Neville froze. He knew at least that Harry had a penchant for escaping the dorm at night (Harry had told him one day walking back from lessons with Professor Lupin).

But Neville hadn’t heard any noise from any of the other beds.

There was the sound of a curtain moving. Then the sound of ripping fabric. Neville’s blood felt like it had turned to ice.

“AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Neville jumped about a mile he stuck his head out to see the shadow of a man running through the door. The door slammed, and everyone in the dorm was moving. “What’s going on?” Neville heard Seamus ask. Dean lit his bedside lamp.

Neville looked around the room to see Ron, white as a sheet, sitting up in his bed. His curtains had been slashed; clearly that had been the source of the ripping noise.

“Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!”

“ _What?_ ”

“Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!”

“You sure you weren’t dreaming, Ron?” asked Dean.

Neville knew Ron hadn’t been dreaming, for he had seen the man himself. His heart was still racing.

They travelled down to the common room, where more and more people were joining asking what had happened.

Professor McGonagall entered, frustrated that the kids had, apparently, tried to continue their post-Quidditch party.

“I certainly didn’t authorize this, Professor!” said Percy indignantly. “I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare- “

“IT WASN’T A NIGHTMARE!” Ron yelled. “PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!”

Professor McGonagall looked incredulously at Ron.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?”

“Ask him!” said Ron, gesturing toward Sir Cadogan on the other side of the common room door. “Ask him if he saw- “

McGonagall stared suspiciously at Ron before opening the door to speak to Sir Cadogan. Everyone waited with bated breath.

“Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?”

“Certainly, good lady!” cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, then-

“You – you _did?_ ” said McGonagall. “But – but the password!”

“He had ‘em!” said Sir Cadogan. “Had the whole week’s, my lady! Read ‘em off a little piece of paper!”

At those words, Neville ceased to breathe.

 _No, no, no no no_ nononono _–_

“Which person,” said Professor McGonagall, voice shaking, face white as chalk, “which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week’s passwords and left them lying around?”

Neville, positively trembling, let out a small breath, and raised his hand.

Neville took the yelling from Professor McGonagall with very little grace, his nerves already brittle from comforting Hermione, and the nightmare, and seeing Sirius Black _run out of their dormitory_. He was in tears soon after she started.

“Mr. Longbottom, I can _not_ believe –“

She stopped, and Neville’s sniffles were the only thing to be heard in the hallway outside the common room.

Arms suddenly wrapped around him, and, if anything, it made him cry harder.

“It’s okay, Neville… Well, it’s not okay. But you must understand –“

“I do, Professor,” he said, muffled by McGonagall’s shoulder. “I do, I really do…”

McGonagall started to rub his back comfortingly. “Okay, okay…” she said. She waited for him to calm down before letting him go.

“I’m sorry to say this, but I cannot just let this slide,” she said quietly. Neville nodded miserably, still sniffling. “You are banned from Hogsmeade weekends for the rest of the year, and you will have detention.”

Neville nodded, not at all willing to argue against it. He deserved it.

The next couple of days, Neville could barely bring himself to speak. He wished he had been quick to draw his wand and stun Black; lot of good those lessons are doing him. He wished, frankly, to stop existing for a bit so he didn’t have to endure the whispers behind his back whenever he got near anyone. More than anything, he wished he hadn’t written down those _stupid_ passwords.

And, a few days later at breakfast, when his grandmother’s owl flew down with a red envelope, Neville wished, for the first time in a long while, that he had been raised by his parents and not his grandmother.

“NEVILLE FRANK LONGBOTTOM, HOW DARE YOU SHAME THE FAMILY IN SUCH A WAY! YOUR PARENTS DID NOT SACRIFICE EVERYTHING THEY HAD FOR YOU TO BEHAVE LIKE SUCH A _DOLT!_ WHAT ARE THOSE LESSONS FOR ANYWAYS –

On and on she went, going in detail about every little thing Neville had done wrong like he didn’t already know. As soon as he got out of the Great Hall with the letter, he ran to the opposite wall and just let the letter go on. There was no stopping it, anyways. He simply leaned against the wall, slowly moving to the ground, head in his hands the whole time. His breathing picked up pace, and he knew whatever had happened to him the other day was happening to him again.

 _Why did they have to do it? Why couldn’t they just leave my parents alone? Why couldn’t the authorities capture them? How come they weren’t in Azkaban? Why did this happen to_ me?

The letter stopped after a good while, but Neville refused to stand up or lift his head. Not when the crowd of students began to leave the Great Hall, not when he felt feet not-so-lightly kicking his shins, and not when he felt a hand on his back that began to rub in circles.

Neville slowly lifted his head, sleeves soaked from tears but his breathing almost normal. He saw Hermione next to him. She was the one who had been rubbing his back comfortingly. It made him feel better.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a small smile.

“Anything for a friend,” she said, giving him and small smile in return.

And that was just about the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

The next Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, and instead of feeling excited, all Neville felt was a horrible sinking in his stomach.

“We’ll bring you something back, Neville,” said Dean as he and Seamus got up to leave the Great Hall.

Neville thanked him feebly, and soon, he was left alone at the breakfast table. He figured if he wasn’t going to Hogsmeade he might as well get a jump on his vampire essay for Lupin. Knowing Harry wasn’t going to Hogsmeade either, Neville decided to go find him and see if he wanted to join him in the library.

Neville got up and walked toward the entrance hall. He spotted Harry walking up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and jogged to meet him.

“Hey, Harry!”

Harry looked back, almost seeming anxious.

Neville frowned. “What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing, I-uh…”

“Um, you want to work on the vampire essay with me? I figured we could work on it since we aren’t going to Hogsmeade…”

Harry looked conflicted. Neville was confused at Harry’s hesitance.

Without warning, Harry pulled Neville into a small alcove. Neville recognized it as being the one in which he had interrupted Hermione crying.

“Neville,” said Harry, keeping his voice low, “wait – just a minute –“

Harry pulled out a very old looking piece of parchment and whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Slowly, a map appeared on the parchment. A map of _Hogwarts_. Harry unfolded it to find the place they were at now and –

Harry’s and Neville’s names were on the parchment, placed exactly where each of them was standing. In the hall just next to them, the name _Severus Snape_ was moving slowly in the hall just next to them.

Harry moved his finger to his lips as an indication for Neville to stay quiet. The two of them continued to watch the map with bated breath, waiting for Professor Snape’s name to move away.

When the name finally moved to a different corridor, Neville immediately asked, “What kind of map _is_ that?”

“It’s called the Marauder’s Map,” said Harry, still whispering. “It’s a map of Hogwarts, including secret passageways. It shows everyone in the castle and where they are. See – “

Harry folded and unfolded the map until he found the headmaster’s office, where the name _Albus Dumbledore_ was moving across the room over and over.

“Fred and George gave it to me…” said Harry, seeming to hesitate before continuing, “to help me sneak into Hogsmeade.”

Neville raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Harry… aren’t you afraid of getting caught?”

“Do you want to join me?” Harry blurted out, apparently ignoring Neville’s question entirely.

Neville shook his head. “I’m in enough trouble as it is, Harry… you have no idea how furious Gran would be…”

Harry looked back down at the map while Neville was talking, seemingly not listening, and the boy now had a very confused look on his face.

“What is it?” asked Neville.

“Look, look right here…” said Harry, frantically pointing at a spot near them in the hall, where the name _Peter Pettigrew_ was moving away from the alcove.

Harry suddenly ran out of the alcove, leaving Neville behind the curtain and _extremely_ confused.

“What’s going on, Harry?” he asked, running out after him.

“That name,” he said, speaking fairly loud, “it shouldn’t be on here! Peter Pettigrew is dead!”

Neville had no idea who Peter Pettigrew was, but clearly Harry was worked up about it for some reason. He followed Harry out of curiosity.

Harry turned a corner before Neville did. As he moved to catch up, Neville heard Harry say loudly, “Professor!”

Neville turned the corner to see Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor, Professor Snape in front of him.

“Potter,” said Professor Snape. He looked up to see Neville peeking around the corner, “and Longbottom. I see, decided to go on an _adventure_ … Potter, what is that you so hastily folded up?”

“Just some parchment, Professor…” said Harry, sounding very calm for the situation he was currently in.

“May I see it?”

Harry slowly, as if it pained him, turned the map over to Professor Snape. Apparently, he had managed to make the map disappear, as the parchment was now blank.

As soon as Snape got hold of it, he immediately drew his wand and tapped it to the parchment, saying, “Reveal your secret!”

When there seemed to be no change, Snape tapped his wand to the parchment again and said, “Show yourself!”

Once more, with no change, he said, “Professor Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!”

Judging by his reaction, the parchment finally changed. Professor Snape’s face became redder and redder with each passing second. Neville, who had drawn level with Harry at this point, looked nervously between the other boy and Snape.

Finally, Snape snapped the paper down to his side.

“Longbottom, return to your common room. I’m sure you could use this time to write your essay for Potions due Tuesday. Potter, come with me.”

Neville gave a weak sympathetic smile to Harry as he walked away with Professor Snape. Neville let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and returned to the common room, waiting for Harry to return so he could find out exactly _what_ all that was about.

Neville was halfway into his vampire essay when the portrait door opened and Harry stepped through, looking downtrodden.

“What happened?” asked Neville as soon as he saw Harry.

“Professor Lupin confiscated the map…” said Harry, sitting down unceremoniously on the sofa next to Neville.

“Professor Lupin?” Neville asked, confused. “But, Professor Snape…?”

Harry sighed. “Professor Snape took me to Lupin’s office after you left.”

“Oh,” said Neville, noticing Crookshanks, Hermione’s cat, jump onto the sofa. Neville reached his hand out to the cat, who sniffed it for a few seconds, and moved forward to rub his head on Neville’s hand.

“Yeah…” said Harry awkwardly. “Well, I guess I should work on that essay…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Fuck TERFs  
> 2.) This is NOT going to turn into a Hermione/Neville ship. TBH I’m thinking of making Neville asexual.  
> 3.) I don’t want Snape to be as bad as he is in the books, although I did keep the toad scene… when I finish this I’m gonna go through and change things so that might be one of them


	8. Exams Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Reposting this chapter. I thought about making a significant change but I ended up not doing it)  
> It's exams time for the kiddos. Lets hope Neville does well...

“She just went up and _smacked_ him!” said Ron, bewildered excitement in his voice.

“Seriously?” asked Seamus, a look of skepticism on his face.

“No kidding,” said Harry, sitting up in his bed. “I saw it myself.”

Judging by the awe in Ron’s voice, his opinion of Hermione had significantly improved. Hermione told Neville about their make-up right after it happened. Ron had wrongly accused Hermione’s cat of killing Scabbers, his rat, but in the face of Buckbeak’s possible execution, it seemed, Ron had decided to forgive Hermione for the incident. It didn’t help Neville’s low opinion of the boy though. A true friend wouldn’t have done what he did to Hermione.

“And then,” said Ron, with the air of someone telling a great tale, “ _and then,_ during Divination – well, you guys were there – but she just walked out! It’s like she turned into a totally different person!”

Neville smiled remembering the incident in question. He himself didn’t enjoy Divination all that much. He felt a strange satisfaction when Hermione had yelled at Professor Trelawney and just walked out. More often than he cared to admit, Neville wished he had the courage to do something like that. He knew that his grandmother might kill him if he got into trouble again, though.

Easter Holidays brought with them a wave of homework. Several times, Neville had moments when he couldn’t breath and just had to cry. If Hermione was ever around during these episodes, she would usually start to do the same thing, and they each had to be comforted by the closest friend.

Dean and Seamus began to join Neville, Harry, Ron and Hermione in a big study circle, since they all, except Hermione, had similar schedules and homework. In the middle of studying one day, Seamus threw down his quill and yelled.

“Call this a holiday!” he said. “The exams are ages away!”

Suffice it to say, the yelling didn’t exactly calm Neville’s nerves.

 _Seriously, this_ just _happened,_ he thought as his breath picked up pace once more.

Most nights that week, Neville passed out on his bed way before anyone else got ready for bed. His body, it seemed, wasn’t handling the stress very well. Last time Neville looked in a mirror, he saw gigantic bags under his eyes. Even though he wasn’t taking nearly as many classes as Hermione, he felt just as haggard as she looked. In Gryffindor common room people would often find the both of them huddled close together on the sofa, trying desperately to take care of their homework.

Neville learned a lot about Hermione while working with her. Her parents were Muggle dentists. It was strange, hearing the horrid ways Muggles went about dentistry. Wizards could often fix cavities with a simple spell. Neville’s grandmother had to do the spell once before on him. Usually, the more serious issues were taken care of by St. Mungo’s. Wizards had some pretty gnarly tooth issues; as a matter of fact, they had a lot of weird illnesses in general. Mumblemumps, for example. Neville had that as a kid, as well. It wasn’t very fun.

The next Quidditch match was soon upon them. The night before the match, nobody did anything other than watch Fred and George making a ruckus throughout the common room. Although the excitement was for the team, Harry was ordered to bed by Oliver Wood even before Neville, which was saying a lot considering his current state.

When Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup the next day it was enough to lift everyone’s spirits for a day or two. Harry, it seemed, was on a post-winning high that seemed like it would never end. He and the rest of the Quidditch team talked endlessly about the win as though it were the best thing that ever happened to them.

The Quidditch excitement didn’t last long, however. Exams were only a couple of weeks away and, once again, Neville and Hermione stuck to each other whenever they got to the common room to study.

As they sat together one day with Harry and Ron, Hermione set aside a sheet with her exam times on.

“Hermione?” said Ron, confused and cautious. “Er – are you sure you’ve copied down these times right?”

“What?” Hermione snapped. She glanced over at the sheet. “Yes, of course I have.”

Neville hadn’t even noticed the sheet before that point, and agreed it was quite strange.

_Monday_

_9 o’clock Arithmancy_

_9 o’clock Transfiguration_

_Lunch_

_1 o’clock Charms_

_1 o’clock Ancient Runes_

Neville knew better than to question it.

“Is there any point asking how you’re going to sit for two exams at once?”

“No,” said Hermione shortly. “Have any of you seen my copy of _Numerology and Gramatica._ ”

Neville who remembered seeing it before on the floor, ducked down to pick it up for her. He silently handed her the book.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

To be honest, Neville had his own suspicions on how Hermione was getting to classes. He had heard of devices called “Time Turners”; his grandmother had mentioned them one day when it came up in a case of murder. In the case, the man had murdered himself, thinking the future version of himself was an intruder in disguise. Neville knew from this that the devices were highly regulated, so he highly doubted that Hermione would even have one. However, it was the only plausible magical explanation for her bizarre exam schedule.

As he was thinking, Harry’s owl, Hedwig, flew through the window with a letter.

“It’s from Hagrid,” said Harry as he opened the note. “Buckbeak’s appeal – it’s set for the sixth.”

“That’s the day we finish our exams,” said Hermione, looking up from taking notes.

“And they’re coming up here to do it,” said Harry. “Someone from the Ministry and – and an executioner.”

Neville and Hermione both looked up from their work, startled.

“They’re bringing the executioner to the appeal!” said Hermione, her voice higher than it had been before. “But it sounds as though they’ve already decided!”

“Yeah, it does,” said Harry slowly.

“They can’t!” said Ron furiously. “I’ve spent ages reading up on stuff for him; they can’t just ignore it all!”

Neville felt a sinking feeling for Hagrid. He had come to know the man pretty well ever since he first went to his hut with Hermione. He was a lot less talkative about Neville's parents now that he knew Neville better, and he was grateful for it.

Exams, when they came, were not fun: in Transfiguration, when Neville tried to turn a teapot into a tortoise, the creature blew steam out of its mouth. Seamus’s still had a spout for a tail. Hearing Hermione complain about her tortoise looking more like a turtle was immensely frustrating.

Charms did good for his anger, however; he got Hermione to giggle uncontrollably for maybe five minutes using the Cheering Charm. She did the same to him, and, at the end, they were both smiling. It was a nice change of pace after the stress of the past few weeks.

Care of Magical Creatures was incredibly easy; Hagrid seemed too depressed to give them anything too difficult. Potions was a complete disaster. Neville was shaking the entire time, and Professor Snape kept on walking up to his cauldron to check on the brew, which only made the shaking worse. Astronomy and History of Magic were… average. He was still a nervous wreck, though. He was convinced he hadn’t studied enough, even though he had spent all his free time for the past week working on school.

Neville’s most anticipated, and most feared, exam was Defense Against the Dark Arts. It would be more focused on the actual class rather than the extra lessons they had taken, although Professor Lupin indicated that he wanted to do a special exam just for Harry and Neville.

The exam, it turned out, was a weird obstacle course, where they had to face all the less advanced creatures they learned about over the year.

“Alright, everyone,” said Professor Lupin, “for your exam today, you will be facing a grindylow, Red Caps, a hinkypunk, and a boggart.”

Lupin looked directly at Neville as he spoke the last word. Neville’s heart sank. He already had a feeling Lupin wouldn’t ask him to step aside from the boggart this time.

As the class began, lining up at the start of the course, Neville hung back. He felt a hand clap on his shoulder.

“Neville,” said Professor Lupin, now standing next to him, “when you finish with the boggart, step towards me. I’ve got a special finale for you and Harry.”

Neville had been right. He spent the time in line thinking desperately about how to make _them_ look funny. He watched all his other classmates go through the course. He saw Harry finish, and move to the side toward Professor Lupin.

They began sparring. Spell after spell, Lupin yelling the name of it before casting it towards Harry. Harry blocked each one, as he and Neville had gotten very good at the Shield Charm. And, after Lupin cast the spell, Harry cast the same spell back, Lupin not Shielding against it to determine each spell’s effectiveness.

Just before it was Neville’s turn to go, Lupin walked up to him once more, slightly breathless.

“Neville, try picturing them in your grandmother’s clothes.”

Now, _that_ was an idea.

Neville passed the grindylow just fine, made it through the patch of Red Caps, and got slightly lost from the hinkypunk before remembering how to ignore its directions.

He had been so distracted by the first three creatures that he nearly forgot about the boggart. Now that he was there, his heart began pounding wildly. He slowly climbed into the trunk, completely unprepared for what he might see.

When he was fully in, there were small lights around the trunk. It was magically larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. There were three figures in the shadows cast beyond the light. Neville walked closer, not daring to make a sound.

The three people slowly made their way to the light. Neville gasped.

Rather than Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Rabastan Lestrange, it was…

Gran, and his parents. Frank and Alice Longbottom standing upright, with clearly upset and disappointed looks on their faces. Neville had never seen a fully lucid expression on his parents faces. He had also never seen them looking so… young.

Gran spoke first.

“Did you really think you could live up to your parents? You’re just a dirty little Squib. They would be so disappointed.”

“She’s right.”

His mother had spoken, her voice silky smooth and incredibly cold.

“I can’t believe we gave birth to such a _disappointment_ ,” said Neville’s father, voice equally as cold as his mother’s.

Neville’s breathing quickened. He couldn’t bring himself to understand that these weren’t his parents. That wasn’t the point. His worst fear was that his grandmother was _right._

He _knew_ it. His grandmother _was_ right. His parents did so much, defied Voldemort time after time. They were _Aurors._ It didn’t matter how many lessons he got from Professor Lupin –

_Professor Lupin._

Neville remembered the exam. Still breathing hard, he began focusing on the task at hand. Frankly, he had no idea how to get rid of them. Making them dress like his grandmother wouldn’t work, one of them was _already_ dressed like his grandmother.

_What they’re saying is what bothers me… What if they couldn’t speak?_

It was all he could think of. Neville quickly filled his thoughts with his parents and his grandmother not being able to speak. He said, “ _Riddikulus”_ and…

The sound of _barking_ began to fill the room. But it wasn’t loud, it was the tiny barks of three tiny dogs, coming out of the mouths of his grandmother and parents.

Neville felt a rush of accomplishment as he had never felt before.

He climbed out of the trunk and the next person walked in after him. Neville went towards Professor Lupin, who was standing in the same spot he had been when he was sparring with Harry.

“Alright, Neville?”

He nodded in response, still breathing a bit hard but smiling like a maniac.

“Now, I’m going to name a spell, then send it to you for you to block,” Professor Lupin explained. “Then you are going to send the same spell back and I _won’t_ block it, in order to gauge its effectiveness.”

Neville nodded.

“Disarming Charm!” yelled Lupin. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Neville blocked it with ease, having done it many times before. He returned the spell. Lupin’s wand flew ten feet away.

“Good!” Lupin yelled as he walked to retrieve his wand.

“Trip Jinx!”

“Knockback Jinx!”

“Body Bind Curse!”

“Stunning Spell!”

“Impediment Jinx!”

Each one, Neville was at least able to perform, with varying degrees of effectiveness. The Trip Jinx sent Lupin fully flying onto his face. Neville had to stifle a laugh. The Body Binding Curse was less effective, setting Lupin’s limbs together for about ten seconds. Neville had been scared to cast it stronger; he and Harry both had incidents over the year in which they were bound for over an hour.

There was a crowd around them at this point, consisting of people who had already gone through the course. Harry was in there as well, smiling as Neville succeeded at each spell.

Finally, Professor Lupin silently conjured a dummy with black cloaks.

“The Patronus Charm,” he said.

Neville took a deep breath. He remembered the day he found out he was going to Hogwarts. How his grandmother had hugged him and told him how proud she was of him; how his parents would be proud. He remembered the party they threw in his honor that weekend. All the pats on the back and the congratulations and the hugs and the food.

He said “Expecto Patronum,” and a silvery four legged creature came out of his wand. For the life of him, he couldn’t tell what it was, but the act to performing the spell had already made him too tired to care. The creature quickly vanished, but there was still applause all around. Professor Lupin walked up to him and clapped him on the back.

“Well done, Neville, well done!”

Harry walked up to him. “Hey man, great job!”

Neville smiled, glad but exhausted. They all still had one more exam; for most of them, it was Divination. Neville didn’t care much to make an honest attempt.

Neville walked into the common room that night, exhausted but glad to be done with exams. As he entered, he saw Ron and Hermione huddled on the sofa next to the fire.

“Hey, how do you think you did?” he asked.

The two of them looked up, looking thoroughly miserable. Neville looked at them, confused. Ron silently handed him a note. The words were shakily written and hardly legible.

_Lost appeal. They’re going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don’t come down. I don’t want you to see it._

_Hagrid_

Neville sat down slowly, good mood completely dissipated.

“We were going to wait until Harry got here – “

Just as he said that, Harry walked in. He ran over to them.

Professor Trelawney –“ he said, panting, “just told me –“

He cut himself off, looking at the three of them.

“Buckbeak lost,” said Ron. “Hagrid just sent this.”

Neville handed the note over to Harry for him to read. As soon as he had finished, his head whipped up to look at the others.

“We’ve got to go,” said Harry. “He can’t just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!”

“Sunset, though,” said Ron. “We’d never be allowed… ‘specially you, Harry…”

“I have the Invisibility Cloak!” said Harry, sounding desperate.

“Will we all even be able to fit?” asked Hermione.

“Let’s see…” said Harry. He motioned for the all three to follow him. Neville followed hesitantly, worried about being caught out of the castle. He didn’t want to be expelled, and he definitely didn’t want another Howler.

However, he thought of Hagrid, all alone, waiting to see his hippogriff get killed…

“Here,” said Harry as soon as they got to Harry’s trunk. He pulled the cloak out and attempted to throw it over all four of them. The cloak was exceptionally big, but they all had to crouch in order to fully hide their bodies. The plan was to go to dinner with everyone else and then sneak away right after.

Hagrid was positively trembling when they got there, but he wasn’t crying.

“Where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” asked Hermione, her voice weak.

“I – I took him outside,” said Hagrid. He spilled milk everywhere from the trembling. “He’s tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an’ – an’ smell fresh air – before –“

Hagrid’s trembling became so bad that he let go of the milk jug he’d been holding onto. It smashed all over the floor.

“I’ll do it, Hagrid,” said Hermione, swishing her wand to clean the mess.

“There’s another one in the cupboard,” said Hagrid, choosing to sit down. He was sweating profusely. Neville, Ron, and Harry looked amongst themselves, not knowing what to do.

Apparently, the executioner would be a man named Macnair. Neville recognized the name from one of his grandmother’s rants about released Death Eaters. He felt his mood immediately darken.

Hermione was taking care of tea, crying her eyes out the whole time, when –

“Ron! I – I don’t believe it – it’s Scabbers!”

Ron looked at her, extremely confused.

“What are you talking about?”

Hermione took the milk jug she had just looked into and turned it over. Scabbers, the formerly missing rat, fell out of the jug and onto the table.

“Scabbers!” said Ron. “Scabbers, what are you doing here?”

Ron lunged for the rat, who was scurrying away. Ron held the rat up to the light. He looked awful and was missing most of his hair.

Ron tried to calm the rat, who was trying very hard to escape his fingers.

Hagrid stood abruptly.

“They’re comin’…”

Neville, Harry, Ron and Hermione were startled. They looked out the window to see Albus Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, an old man, and the executioner, carrying a very large, very sharp axe.

“Yeh gotta go,” said Hagrid, sounding panicked and shaking like a leaf. “They mustn’ find yeh here… go now…”

The four kids moved to the door, Ron stuffing Scabbers in his pocket and Hermione grabbing the cloak.

They escaped out the back door and started to go up the slope toward the castle as soon as Hagrid’s front door shut.

“Please, let’s hurry,” Hermione whispered. “I can’t stand it, I can’t bear it…”

Not long after, Ron came to a dead stop.

“Oh, please, Ron,” said Hermione desperately.

“It’s Scabbers – he won’t – stay put –“

They made it most of the way up the hill, Ron struggling all the way to keep Scabbers still. By this point the rat was squealing wildly. When they were almost at the top –

 _Swish… THUD_.


	9. The Rat in Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Harry are confronted by Sirius Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still really unsure about this chapter, I really don't know how well I did this. But I have to post it eventually so I can move on with the rest of the story... I've got some good stuff lined up for The Goblet of Fire...

The three of them stood, horrified that they would just kill Buckbeak, until –

“OUCH! He bit me!” Ron yelped.

Neville turned just in time to see Scabbers drop to the ground and scamper away. He couldn’t understand why the rat was so agitated, until he saw Crookshanks crawl out of a bush just next to them. The cat wound up to pounce, then took off after Scabbers

Ron immediately threw the cloak off his shoulders and began running in the direction of Crookshanks and Scabbers.

“ _Ron!_ ” Hermione said loudly.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville looked at each other before running after Ron. The cloak flew to the ground behind them, forgotten.

When they caught up with Ron, he was sprawled on the ground, holding tightly onto a moving lump in his pocket; he had grabbed Scabbers.

But Neville could hear something moving closer… like a large animal galloping toward them. They all turned their heads to see –

An enormous black dog was pelting toward the group.

Neville was simply too exhausted for this.

The dog jumped onto Harry, knocking him to the ground, before he could even draw his wand. The dog moved swiftly over Harry and toward Ron. The dog latched its teeth onto the boy’s arm and dragged him away.

Neville tried to move for Ron, but something hit him in the chest and knocked the wind out of him. He looked around wildly, not knowing who or what was attacking him.

“ _Lumos,_ ” said Harry somewhere to his left.

Neville could suddenly see the tree not five feet in front of them – the Whomping Willow. The black dog was dragging Ron into an opening at the base of its trunk.

Neville, without thinking, dived toward Ron, grabbing onto his leg.

Ron screamed, and Neville quickly let go. Startled, but still determined to go after the dog, Neville moved to enter the opening.

The tunnel was extremely low. He began wiggling on his stomach for a few feet until he was able to move on his hands and knees.

There was light ahead, according to the fact he could see Ron’s shadow on the tunnel. He was remarkably silent for someone who was being dragged around by a giant dog. Neville figured all the scream had left him.

After a minute or so of crawling after the moving shadow, Neville finally found the source of light at the end of the tunnel.

He crawled out at the end to find himself in an incredibly dusty and messy room. There were stains all over the floor, and every bit of furniture was completely broken. He saw a clean trail in the dust leading out of the room’s door…

Just outside was a hallway with a set of stairs. Ron was at the top, the dog still holding onto him. Neville moved quickly to catch up; the dog was dragging Ron into a room.

Neville braced himself, and ran inside the room to see Ron at the opposite side, clutching his leg, which sat at an odd angle.

“ _Neville!”_ said Ron with an incredibly high-pitched voice.

Neville looked around the room in search of the dog, holding his wand up, only to see a figure transforming into –

A human.

“ _Sirius Black!_ ” said Neville, not believing his eyes.

Neville’s mind was completely blank for a solid minute before he thought to say anything. It seemed that Black, too, was startled by Neville’s appearance.

He felt an overwhelming wave of panic consume him. He kept his wand trained on Sirius, but only because he couldn’t move. He didn’t think he’d be able to perform a single spell at that moment.

“You’re here for Harry, aren’t you?” he asked simply, almost whispering.

“No,” said Black, looking into Neville’s eyes. He couldn’t tell if the man was lying.

He noticed Black holding onto Ron’s wand at his side. Immediately, feeling a sudden need to move, Neville swished his wand and yelled _“Expelliarmus!”_

He caught Ron’s wand in mid-air and moved back toward Ron, all the time never taking his eyes off Black. He silently passed the wand over to its rightful owner. Neville kept his own wand, his father’s wand, trained on Black.

They all turned their heads to the door as they heard creaking on the staircase.

_Harry and Hermione must’ve gotten inside…_

After a few seconds, the door was kicked open, and his two friends dashed into the room for Ron. The cat, Crookshanks darted in after them, immediately going to Sirius’s legs and rubbing against them.

“Ron – are you okay?”

“Where’s the dog?”

“It’s not a dog,” said Neville, voice strangely level. “It’s Sirius Black.”

Harry and Hermione both gasped as they looked in the direction Neville had pointed his wand.

Neville stayed as still as possible. His hand shook just the tiniest bit.

Sirius Black chose that moment to speak up.

“I’m glad the three of you didn’t run for a teacher… It will be much easier to explain…”

Neville raised his eyebrows slightly.

_Explain? Explain what?_

There were fast movements behind Neville. He couldn’t tell what was going on with back there; he refused to take his eyes off Black.

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” said Ron forcefully. His voice sounded wobbly, as though he were in a lot of pain.

Black looked almost sorry for Ron. “Lie down,” he said quietly. “You’ll damage that leg even more…”

“Did you hear me?” said Ron weakly. “You’ll have to kill all three of us!”

“He claims he’s not here to kill Harry…” Neville spoke up. He didn’t know quite yet if he could trust the man but judging by the way Black had refused to cast a spell toward Neville, Black wasn’t here with express intent to harm any of the kids.

“Neville! You believe him?” said Harry, sounding almost betrayed.

Neville didn’t respond. He simply kept holding his wand up. Black still made no move to harm, or even disarm him. Neville stated this fact.

“He killed all those Muggles, and Peter Pettigrew!”

_Pettigrew…?_

Harry rushed up beside Neville and pointed his wand directly at Black, shaking with fury.

“You killed my parents,” he said quietly, but with all the force of a bomb.

“I don’t deny it,” said Black simply. “But if you knew the whole story…”

“The whole story?” asked Harry incredulously. “You sold them to Voldemort. That’s all I need to know.”

“You’ve got to listen to me,” said Black, sounding anxious. “You’ll regret it if you don’t… you don’t understand…”

“I understand a lot better than you think,” said Harry, voice shaking terribly now. “You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… and you did that… you did it…”

Neville decided it was enough. Without taking his eyes off Black, he grabbed Harry’s wand arm and tried to pull him back.

“Harry…” he said, as cautious as he could. “Let’s hear him out…”

There were footsteps in the building; someone had come for them…

“WE’RE UP HERE!” screamed Hermione suddenly. “WE’RE UP HERE – SIRIUS BLACK – _QUICK!_ ”

The footsteps were closer now, almost running. Black jumped at Hermione’s scream and Harry violently jerked his arm out of Neville’s hand. He pointed the wand fully at Black’s chest.

The door burst open and Neville spared a glance. It was Professor Lupin.

Immediately, Lupin disarmed both Harry and Neville. Without a wand, Neville felt another wave of panic flow over him. He backed away, toward where Ron was sitting. As quietly as possible, Neville sat down.

Lupin spoke, holding his own wand at Black, sounding very tense.

“Where’s Pettigrew, Sirius?”

Neville saw Harry look back and forth between Lupin and Black.

Black, with an almost blank look on his face, pointed at Ron silently.

“But then…” Lupin was staring at Black with an intensity rivaling Harry’s. “… why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless,” a look of understanding dawned on the Professor’s face, “- unless _he_ was the one who… unless you switched… without telling me?”

Black nodded solemnly, never taking his eyes off Lupin.

Lupin slowly lowered his wand… and then

Walked up to Black and embraced him wholeheartedly.

Immediately, sounds of rage came from Harry, Ron and Hermione at the same time. Neville said and did nothing.

“I trusted you!” Harry yelled at Lupin, still struggling, “and all the time you’ve been his friend!”

“You’re wrong,” said Lupin, at the same time Neville and Hermione both said, “Harry!”

“I have _not_ been helping Sirius,” said Lupin. “If you’ll give me a chance to explain…”

As Lupin and Black spoke, they wove an intricate tale of werewolves–

_“NO!” Hermione screamed. “Harry, don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead, too – he’s a werewolf!”_

_Silence rung through the room._

_“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” said Lupin calmly. “Only one out of three I’m afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don’t want Harry dead…” A pause, “But I won’t deny that I am a werewolf.”_

\--- of Animagi –

_“My friends didn’t abandon me at all,” said Professor Lupin. “Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.”_

\--- of maps and Marauders –

_“The Marauder’s Map never lies, Ron…” said Lupin calmly. “Peter’s alive. He’s in your hands right now, Ron._

\- of rats and cats –

_“Crookshanks tried to bring Pettigrew to me but couldn’t… so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me… As I understand it, he took them from a boy’s bedside table…”_

_“Hey, that was my bedside table!” said Neville, peeved to know that he was banned from Hogsmeade because of Crookshanks. He gave the cat a disappointed look. The cat simply stared back._

\- of Fidelius Charms and Secret-Keepers –

_“Harry… I as good as killed them,” said Black, sounding older than ever as he said it. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me…”_

\--- that left little room to believe they weren’t telling the truth.

As they spoke, Neville calmed down more and more. The situation seemed deescalated, although there was still the matter of getting Ron to give up his own rat to prove Black and Lupin correct. Ron was understandably, but frustratingly hesitant to give up the rat.

“What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?” asked Ron tensely.

“Force him to show himself,” said Lupin. “If he really is a rat, it won’t hurt him.”

Finally, Ron gave in.

“Ready, Sirius?” said Lupin.

Lupin then turned to Neville.

“Neville,” he said, “could Sirius use your wand for a moment?”

Neville nodded and meekly handed the wand to Lupin, who passed it to Black.

“Together?” said Black quietly.

“I think so,” said Lupin, holding the rat in front of them using one hand.

“On the count of three. One – two – THREE!”

At the same time, blue-white light came out of the two wands and hit the rat. Scabbers was frozen in midair, thrashing wildly, and then hit the floor. Ron yelled.

The rat transformed; slowly a human head showed up, and the body grew and grew. Fur shrank and clothes showed up (thank god). He was wrinkled and flabby, as though he lost a lot of weight very quickly. He had a pointed nose and small beady eyes, which were darting toward the door every two seconds.

Sirius Black and Professor Lupin had been telling the truth.

The man now standing before them, Peter Pettigrew, began desperately trying to convince Lupin, and the rest of them, that Black had been lying, that Black was going after Pettigrew and that’s why he remained a rat for twelve years.

“You haven’t been hiding from _me_ for twelve years,” said Black to Pettigrew. “You’ve been hiding from Voldemort’s old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… They all think you’re dead, or you’d have to answer to them… I’ve heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep.”

Neville wondered if that included _them…_

As Sirius and Lupin grew more and more angry, and Pettigrew grew more desperate to escape, Neville longed to have his wand back. He was thoroughly worried that Pettigrew would try and escape. He tried to comfort himself with the fact that Lupin and Black still had their wands trained on the man.

Pettigrew began a last-ditch attempt to convince the people in the room of his innocence. One by one, he went to Black, then Lupin, then Ron, Hermione, and Neville himself.

“Young man,” said Pettigrew at his feet, “you understand, don’t you? Always underestimated – to want protection –“

Neville said nothing but backed far away.

And then, Pettigrew went to Harry.

“Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him…”

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?” roared Black. Neville flinched. “HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?”

“Harry,” whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward the boy. Neville took a protective step towards Harry. “Harry, James wouldn’t have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…”

Black and Lupin grabbed each of Pettigrew’s shoulders and threw the man backwards. He sat on the ground, looking up at the two men.

“You sold Lily and James to Voldemort,” said Black, shaking. “Do you deny it?”

Pettigrew burst into ugly sobs, tears streaming down his face.

Pettigrew made a futile attempt to make excuses for his behavior, but Black and Lupin had heard enough.

“You should have realized,” said Lupin quietly, “If Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter.”

Neville’s blood went cold, as he realized he was about to witness a man be murdered –

“STOP!”

“NO!”

Harry had lunged in front of the wands that were about to fire on Pettigrew.

“You can’t kill him,” said Harry, breathing hard. “You can’t”

“Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents,” Black snarled. “This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your own family.”

“I know,” said Harry. “We’ll take him up to the castle. We’ll hand him over to the dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don’t kill him.”

Pettigrew gasped, and flung his arms around Harry’s legs. “You – thank you – it’s more than I deserve – thank you –“

“Get off me,” spat Harry.

“I’m not doing this for you,” said Harry. “I’m doing it because – I don’t reckon my dad would have wanted them to become killers – just for you.”

There was a pregnant silence.

And Black and Lupin finally lowered their wands.

“You’re the only person who has a right to decide,” said Black gently. “But think… think what he did…”

Neville thought for a moment what he would have done. He thought of _them_ , and whether or not they should be in Azkaban or dead…

Of course, Neville had yelled at Lupin and Black to stop when they tried to kill Pettigrew, but Neville was being selfish when he had done it; he just didn’t want to witness a person being killed.

“He can go to Azkaban,” repeated Harry. “If anyone deserves that place, he does…”

“Very well,” said Lupin. “Stand aside, Harry.”

Harry hesitated.

“I’m going to tie him up,” said Lupin reassuringly. “That’s all, I swear.”

Harry finally moved. Neville approached Black nervously.

“C-Could I have my wand back, Mr. Black?”

Black looked startled, as though he hadn’t realized he was holding the boy’s wand the whole time.

“Oh! Oh, yes, sorry…”

Black handed the wand back. Neville didn’t put it in his pocket, deciding to keep it in his hand just in case. It had been a very long night.

Ron’s leg had been bandaged by Lupin, and they prepared to leave the room.

“And two of us should be chained to this,” said Black. “Just to make sure.”

“I’ll do it,” said Lupin.

“And me,” said Ron.

They walked slowly. Pettigrew, Lupin and Ron were now chained together and had to walk to where they didn’t trip. Hermione and Neville took up the rear while Harry and Sirius stood at the front of the group. They were about to start going down the steps when a figure at the bottom was suddenly revealed.

The figure of Severus Snape, holding a goblet with some kind of liquid in it.

“Going somewhere, Lupin?”

Everyone froze walking down the stairs.

“Snape…” said Black, sneering. “Of course, you decided to come lurking around here again.”

“Well,” said Snape smirking. “I figured Lupin would be needing his Wolfsbane Potion right about now.” He shook the hand with the potion in it.

“Severus,” said Lupin, sounding scared. “You don’t understand… Pettigrew – he –“

“I heard it all, Lupin,” said Snape plainly. “I have a brain. Just come here and take your potion. It's the full moon, you're liable to transform any moment. Although,” he nodded toward Pettigrew, “you might want to detach yourself from _that._ ”

Lupin detached the chains on his own foot and walked toward Snape. Unfortunately, this meant that Ron was the only one attached to Pettigrew. And in Ron’s state –

Pettigrew moved so fast Neville almost didn’t see it. He elbowed Ron in the gut and looked like he was about to transform –

Neville put his wand up swiftly, adrenaline flowing through his veins, and yelled, “ _Stupefy!_ ”

Pettigrew fell to the ground gracelessly. Everyone simply looked at him for a moment.

“Just like your parents, Longbottom,” said Lupin, smiling.

Neville finished processing what he had just done and beamed at Professor Lupin.

Black gave Neville an odd look, as though looking at the boy for the first time.

“Longbottom, huh?”

Neville’s insides jumped a little. Every time an older person heard his last name, this happened.

“Uh, yeah,” said Neville shyly.

Black broke the chains connecting Ron and Pettigrew, then said “ _Mobilicorpus._ ” Pettigrew began moving along the hallway strangely, as though he was a marionette.

“I knew a couple of Longbottom’s. Great Aurors, they were. Lily and James Potter were just barely within their league. I understand they had a son about the same time Harry was born… You wouldn’t happen to be that son, would you?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah I am,” Neville felt extremely strange.

Lupin transformed in front of them... His head morphed from that of a human's to that of a large wolf. They all stood frozen, waiting for the transformation to finish. By the end, Professor Lupin had become a werewolf, but not the scary kind, roaring and biting. The creature was completely curled in on himself, now on a stretcher conjured by Snape. Black was eyeing Snape warily, as though he didn’t trust the man.

They were about the strangest group of people you’ve ever seen walking across the Hogwarts grounds.

Black moved his way to the back of the group, where Harry now was. Neville was stuck in between Ron and Hermione, with Pettigrew still floating weirdly in front of them. After all the excitement, Neville was finally feeling the bone-deep exhaustion hitting him from the events of the day. And he couldn’t believe he thought he was tired after the Defense exam. That was nothing compared to this.

A familiar feeling of cold washed over all of them.

_Oh no…_

Neville looked up to see the flowing cloaks of dementors floating above them. He looked to Harry, who looked terrified. Harry turned to face the dementors and pointed his wand at them. Neville did the same.

Neville frantically thought for a memory that made him happy –

_“Just like your parents, Longbottom.”_

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_

Feeble wisps of silver came out of his wand. He was so tired. He concentrated as hard as he could on Lupin’s praise.

“Expecto – expecto patronum…”

Neville felt the darkness coming again, could hear his mother screaming again…

_There was little light in the room. All he could see were flashes of red coming from the crack in the door…_

_A high-pitched cackle came from outside the room._

_“Crucio!”_

_Terrible screams filled the house once more… He couldn’t stand it; he began to cry…_

_“Stupid child!”_

_The sound of someone quickly walking to the room he was in…_

Neville returned to the present, though he could barely see. He could still hear the screams, but they were fading. There was bright light all over, Neville couldn’t tell where it began and where it ended. He tried to open his eyes more, but it was too much. He fully passed out.


	10. The Patronus, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The resolution.

He could hear voices…

“Shocking business… shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like… by thunder , it was lucky you were there, Snape…”

“Thank you, Minister.”

“Order of Merlin, Second Class, I’d say. First Class, If I can wrangle it!”

“Thank you very much indeed, Minister.”

“You weren’t hurt, no?”

“No, sir. I produced the Patronus in time to get us all away safely.”

“Good thing, too…”

Neville felt incredibly groggy. He tried to open his eyes; it took a few tries. When he finally managed it, he found himself looking once again at the familiar ceiling of the hospital wing.

The conversation he was hearing slowly processed in his brain. He tried to remember what had happened…

Cold, dementors, bright light…

Screaming.

Neville’s blood went cold. He shot up as fast as he could and tried to leave the bed. He couldn’t sit still now. Not after remembering _that._

Suddenly, Madam Pomfrey was in front of him, breaking apart an ungodly amount of chocolate and forcing it into his hand.

“Sit down and eat.”

Neville silently lowered himself and timidly took a bite of the chocolate. The conversation that he had been listening to continued.

“What will be made of Pettigrew, sir?” asked Snape.

“Of course, he will be put in Azkaban in Black’s place,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. “Terribly embarrassing this is, I must say. Twelve years Black was in prison, and all the time he was innocent! We will, of course, do our very best to assist him after his ordeal. We would put him on trial for being an Animagus illegally, but according to him, he was just a kid when he had done it, and, well I figure the man has done plenty of time. I just wonder how he survived there so long without going insane…”

“Indeed,” came Snape’s curt voice.

So, Snape had gone and done the right thing. Pettigrew was behind bars and Sirius vindicated. Neville figured he had probably done it for the Order of Merlin, though.

Neville, Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been finally dismissed from the hospital wing. The exams season had officially passed, school was just about over, and there was another Hogsmeade weekend. Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus didn’t feel like going; Harry and Neville were, of course, still not allowed. The six of them sat along the edge of the Black Lake as Dean and Seamus begged for a full rundown of the events that took place in the Shrieking Shack. They seemed almost jealous that Neville had gotten involved in one of the Golden Trio’s adventures and they hadn’t.

Word spread quickly of Sirius Black’s innocence. Pettigrew, to their knowledge, was moved to a Ministry holding facility awaiting judgement. Neville, Harry, Ron and Hermione became something of celebrities amongst the students for their involvement in the whole debacle.

“How about we go visit Hagrid?” said Ron suddenly as they sat next to the lake. “I still feel bad for him…”

“Oh,” said Hermione, looking over at Harry and smiling.

“What?” asked Neville.

“Well,” said Harry, smirking. “Let’s just say you don’t need to feel bad about Buckbeak for much longer…”

Harry and Hermione had evidently _turned back time illegally_ to save Buckbeak while Ron and Neville were passed out.

Ron looked dumbfounded by the end of their story.

“How did you not get _caught?”_ he asked. “Was this _your_ idea, Hermione?”

Hermione looked sheepishly at Ron and Neville. “Maybe…”

Ron looked at Hermione like he didn’t even recognize her.

“I just wanted to thank all four of you for being so understanding…” said Sirius Black.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all in Professor Lupin’s office. Lupin and Sirius were both sitting behind the desk that Neville was so familiar with. It seemed to be years ago that he first came here to try and get extra lessons…

“I’m just glad we know the truth now…” said Hermione.

They sat around the table, somewhat awkwardly drinking tea.

“Harry?” said Sirius suddenly.

“Yes?” said Harry, confused.

“May I speak to you outside for a moment?”

“Yeah…”

They walked outside and the remaining four were left in a silence even more awkward than before.

Neville wound himself up to ask what he had been wanting to ask the whole time.

“Do you really have to leave, Professor?”

“Yes, Neville,” said Lupin sadly. “Unfortunately, what with my testimony for Sirius’s innocence, my being a werewolf is common knowledge now… it’s much easier if I just leave now…”

They stewed in the silence once more.

Sirius and Harry entered the office again, looking happier than Neville had seen either of them.

After a few more minutes, the students decided it was time to leave. The three other students left together, but Neville stayed behind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be up in a second…”

They left reluctantly. Neville turned to Lupin, dying to ask one last question.

“Professor,” he started. “Did you see what my Patronus was? During the exam?”

Lupin smiled. “Yes, Neville. A lion.”

Neville smiled back.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”

Hermione shoved the Daily Prophet into Harry and Neville’s faces as they ate breakfast the morning before leaving Hogwarts.

Harry swiftly grabbed the papers from Hermione and read through the beginning of the article. Neville leaned over to read along with him

_Pettigrew ESCAPED_

_Last night, Peter Pettigrew, previously thought to be dead, escaped from the Ministry’s hold. The man was awaiting trial for the murder of 12 Muggles in 1981, a crime for which Sirius Black was previously convicted…_

Neville stared, dumbfounded. He looked over at Harry, who had a curious look on his face.

“You know, I never told you guys…”

He explained how he heard Professor Trelawney make a real prediction, one that sounded very similar to the escape of Pettigrew…

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” said Hermione plainly. “You say Trelawney predicted this would happen the _night of our exams_. But Pettigrew’s only just escaped…”

“Maybe it’s a different person?” said Harry feebly.

“Or maybe she’s just a right fraud,” said Hermione in a scathing tone.

“You weren’t there, Hermione,” said Harry. “It was like she was about to have a seizure or something, and her voice turned completely different… it was like she was possessed or something.”

Hermione simply sighed and took the newspaper back from Harry. Her eyes scanned the paper once more.

“Ugh,” she said. “I’m just so mad that he was able to escape! Was there no one keeping watch in case he tried to transform?”

Neville frowned, not enticed by the idea of eating anymore.

The day they were scheduled to leave Hogwarts, Harry entered the Hogwarts Express compartment looking extremely happy.

“Dumbledore called me to talk to him.”

Seamus and Dean were invited to join Harry, Ron and Hermione in their carriage. At Harry’s declaration, they all looked confusedly at each other.

“Yeah?” said Ron dumbly.

“He told me that I need to stay with the Dursley’s for a couple of weeks. He wouldn’t tell me why… But after that? I get to live with Lupin and Sirius for the summer!”

Harry was grinning madly. Each of them exclaimed in happiness.

“Are your aunt and uncle really that bad?” asked Seamus curiously.

“You have no idea…”

Neville looked out the window at the receding silhouette of the castle. He, of course, would be returning to his grandmother. She had already sent word about how proud she was of him for helping prove Sirius’s innocence and putting Pettigrew behind bars. But he knew the pressure would only continue to increase from her… Neville felt like he had barely done anything. He hadn’t even been able to produce a Patronus when they really needed it…

As he watched the scenery pass, grey tuft of feathers showed up at the edge of the window. Neville looked curiously at the tuft as it grew and, soon enough, there was a tiny owl tapping on the glass for their compartment. Neville, who was already next to the window, opened it to let the creature inside. It was holding a letter addressed to Harry.

Neville let the owl land on his finger and untied the parchment, handing the note to Harry. As soon as the owl was free of the note, he began fluttering and twittering excitedly around the compartment.

“It’s a note from Sirius, explaining when he and Lupin will be picking me up.”

Harry continued reading.

“Hey Ron,” he said suddenly. “Sirius says you can keep the owl if you want. He says it’s his fault you don’t have a pet anymore…”

“Keep him?” said Ron uncertainly. He held his hand out for the owl to land. To the surprise of everyone in the compartment, he moved the owl toward Crookshanks.

“What do’you reckon?” said Ron to the cat. “Definitely an owl?”

Crookshanks purred in response.

“That’s good enough for me,” said Ron happily. “He’s mine.”

Neville smiled at the energy radiating from everyone. In that moment, it didn’t matter that Pettigrew escaped, or that Neville hadn’t been able to produce a Patronus at the right moment. In that moment, it was nice to just be with his friends, new and old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy that so many people left kudos and comments... I really appreciate it. If you've followed this far, just know that I've already gotten a big part of my version of The Goblet of Fire done. It will be a lot less linear than this and much more of a character study, since the book doesn't involve Neville's character in a way thats super interesting other than the whole Professor Moody situation. Still I hope it will be appealing <3


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